South Of Sideways
by Jurassic Parker
Summary: Reverse!Dipcifica, rated M for language, maybe an explicit scene or two and lethally stupid humor. Dipper is just trying to have fun on his day off from his magic show, but then he sees something through the window. The structure is this - Four chapters for one arc, each arc is followed by an interlude. This is my first fanfic, so feel free to leave reviews.
1. Day Off - Chapter One - Apex

It was Dipper Gleeful's day off, and he was going to enjoy it if it killed him.

Well, maybe not if it killed _him_ specifically. He would enjoy it if it killed Mabel, maybe.

Dipper woke up at 12 in the afternoon. He quickly got dressed, then walked down the hallway. He passed Mabel's room, and heard heavy metal. He rolled his eyes and kept it pushing.

"Hey, Stan," he said as he passed Mister Magic himself in the hallway.

Stan looked out from under his fedora. "Oh. Hey, kid. Whatcha gonna do on your day off?"

"None of your business," he replied coolly.

"Arrogant and paranoid? I knew I was teaching you well," Stan said proudly.

Dipper poured himself a bowl of Lucky Harms - _The world's most dangerous cereal!_ the box read, and it had a picture of a leprechaun decapitating a unicorn - and realized they were out of milk.

"Will!" he yelled. In a shower of blue light, the small man was there.

Well, small wasn't exactly the word. Will was a decent six feet, but was scarecrow-skinny, with shirts and pants that made him seem even thinner. Dipper was six-two, and also skinny, but lean. He had no doubts that he could go toe-to-blue-toe with Will.

If, you know, Will was human.

"We're out of milk. Go get me some."

"Yes, Master Gleeful," he said softly, and disappeared. He popped back in by the time Dipper sat down with a gallon of milk. "Yell if you need me, sir."

Will disappeared to… huh. Dipper pondered where he went off to as he chewed his cereal. _Limbo_? he thought to himself. _Hell? Heaven? Maybe he just goes to the El Burro down the road._ After a few minutes, Dipper decided that he didn't care enough to keep thinking about it and poured another bowl.

Upstairs, the heavy metal stopped, and Mabel's door opened. She floated down the stairs and sat down across from him. "Good afternoon, Dipper," she said. Her eyes glowed blue as some bread floated out of the bag on the counter and into the toaster.

"Hey, Mabel," he replied. "Why do you insist on wearing your outfit on our one day off?"

Mabel shrugged. "I don't know. I like it. It's nice wearing the same thing day after day, like having a schedule. What're your plans for today?"

Dipper ticked his schedule off on his fingers. "Well, first I'm gonna finish my breakfast."

"Most important meal of the day," she interrupted.

"Then I'm gonna go work out for an hour and a half, then I'll work with Ford for an hour."

"Dipper, you do know that the point of a day off is to relax a bit, right?" Mabel gently teased.

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Yeah, which is why I will then watch TV for a few hours, get some food at Sun King Wok, then go home and go to bed."

"You're just gonna eat by yourself?" Mabel asked. "What a loser."

"Well, who should I eat with?" he countered. "Your girl squad? Will? Wendy Corduroy?"

"You don't have any friends to eat with?" Mabel's voice was spiteful and incredulous, but curious.

Dipper thought about it. "Nope." He took another bite of cereal.

"Not that I care, like, _at all_ , but do you care that you don't have friends?"

He didn't have to think about it this time. "Nope."

"Why?" Mabel asked. She was genuinely wondering now.

"Mabel, you ever hear the saying, 'It's lonely at the top'? Well, that saying is total bee-ess."

"Yeah, but you're not at the top."

"You're right. I share the top with you, and you're not good company. I don't need friends when I've got power."

Mabel considered his words. The saddest part, she concluded, was that he believed he was right. "Okay, loser, whatever you say."

"What are you doing today?" he asked in polite disinterest.

The doorbell rang. "That's what I'm doing," Mabel said with a grin, and ran to the door. Dipper covered his ears instinctively, but he could still hear the girls screaming. Mabel ran past the kitchen doorway, and her girl gang followed.

Candy Chu was about five feet of pure rage. Dipper had learned the hard way that if you wanted a knife stuck in your esophagus, you insulted Candy's height. Or weight. Or anything. Grenda, on the other hand, was six-three and three hundred pounds of pure muscle. She was the only one who Dipper felt even a modicum of fear towards, but so would most people after watching her shove creeps' heads through solid concrete. It wasn't fear, he told himself, it was simple logic.

They both flipped him off as they passed, and he returned the gesture.

He walked to the gym a few blocks away, and quickly strapped his gloves on. Six years ago, when he came to live at Gravity Falls with his great-uncles, he quickly learned that he needed to fight if he didn't want the shit kicked out of him by Wendy Corduroy every day. So Dipper asked his uncles how, and naturally, Ford's method was "shoot the other person". While Dipper definitely respected that, and planned to use it someday, he needed advice that wouldn't put him in the Gravity Falls Penitentiary until college.

So Stan introduced him to boxing, and he grew to it like a fish to water. His trainers told him that with his long reach, the goal for him was to hit the other person to keep them away. Dipper worked on that, and six years later, the trainers stopped giving him lessons so that he could find his own style while they worked on the other guys who came in.

His twin wasn't going to be left out, though, and she wanted to fight too - not because she had to, but because she loved to fight. Mabel also got the "shoot the other guy" talk from Ford, but declined it not for moral reasons, but because then it just wouldn't be as much fun.

So Mabel studied the "ancient art" of Krav Maga, which Dipper had no idea how it worked, but thought that the name was ridiculous. "It sounds like something that elementary-school soccer moms store their gluten-free waffles in during their kids' games," he told Mabel one day. She didn't think it was very funny.

Dipper walked to the corner of the room, where a bright red sandbag hung from the ceiling. Every other bag was occupied, but all of the other gym rats knew to leave the corner one alone.

That was Dipper Gleeful's, and Dipper Gleeful's alone.

Dipper slipped off his shirt. Then, he clapped his gloves together and got to work.

Jab. Jab. Jab. Right Cross. Right Cross. Right Cross. Right Uppercut. Right Uppercut. Right Uppercut. Finish it off with a right stomach punch. Switch hands and repeat. He did it for thirty minutes, then went to get a drink of water from the fountain.

When Dipper returned, he saw two guys getting ready to start working out on his corner bag. Dipper raised an eyebrow and walked over. "Hey, guys," he said calmly and peacefully. "I was working out on this bag. Think you can find another one?"

The two were obviously newcomers. The one with gloves on was taller than the other, and looked at him with surprise. "Oh, sure, dude. My bad. Come on, Tyler, let's go find another one." He started to leave, and Dipper sighed with relief. It would look really bad on the Gleeful name to start a fight in public.

The other one, however, didn't move from holding the bag. "Nah, Jacob, I don't think we should." He stared at Dipper with an ugly smile on his face. Dipper was reminded of a troll from one of those stupid movies he watched with Mabel two weeks ago. "After all, we were here first."

Dipper cocked his head to the side, not letting his voice go anywhere other than calm. "Actually, Tyler, I was."

"Ty, dude, let's just go," Jacob said, putting his arms up like a peacemaker.

"Is that your bag?" Tyler asked Dipper, ignoring his friend. He jerked his head toward Dipper's bright blue bag with his change of clothes in it.

"Yes," Dipper said with steel in his voice.

Tyler grinned that nasty grin again, turned his head, and spat on the bag. Dipper winced inwardly. He didn't feel bad about the clothes, which could be replaced, or what he was going to have do to this caveman, but he did regret having to do it in public.

"Okay, so is that how it's gonna be?" he asked Tyler, who nodded, never dropping the stupid grin.

"Tyler, you idiot!" Jacob shouted at him. He turned to Dipper with a pleading look in his eyes. "Dude, I am so sorry. I'll get him out of here-"

"Don't worry, 'dude'," Dipper mimicked, but not cruelly. He was only cruel to those who deserved it. Like Tyler.

"Tyler, I challenge you to a spar." Dipper pulled himself up to look eye level with him.

The growing crowd gasped. Spars were serious business at the gym. If you lose, you didn't come back for a month, and you were ridiculed for as long as people remember it. No one can turn down a spar challenge.

Tyler's eyes seemed to shrink into his face a little, but the ugly grin didn't drop. "Let's go, little man."

Dipper allowed a grin of his own to form on his face. _This_ , he thought to himself, _is going to be fun_.

Tyler and him walked over to the ring and stood on opposite sides. Neither put on the headgear. Dipper gave his opponent the once-over.

Tyler didn't take his shirt off. _He's ashamed_ , Dipper thought. _He doesn't like his body, so he covers it up. I think I can use that._

Tyler left his earrings in. _I can definitely use that,_ Dipper thought, chuckling at his opponent's stupidity.

And finally, the muscles in his left arm were bigger than the ones in his right. So he was either left handed or he conducted his 'Internet research' solely with his off hand. Dipper went with the former.

They stood in opposite corners. Then a gym rat rang the bell, and the spar began.

Tyler came out swinging. Dipper ducked and weaved. He used his reach to give Tyler a gut punch. The big guy didn't even flinch. He roared and punched Dipper in the nose.

Dipper staggered over, just barely managing to stay upright. He felt something in his nose loosen, and a bit of blood came out of one nostril.

He looked at Tyler, who was grinning, and grinned back sinisterly. Tyler's troll-grin faded a bit. Stan had taught Dipper all about the Jack-O-Lantern Grin that every business man like himself had to know - one that said _Please, try to fuck with me some more, I'm begging you._

This time, he charged at Tyler, whose grin dropped entirely. He swung at Dipper, who dodged back and gave him a few right hooks to the cheek. Tyler tried to give him one of his own, but Dipper ducked, used his momentum, and gave Tyler an uppercut that would make Rumble McSkirmish proud.

With a mighty crash, Tyler tumbled backward and laid there for a second, dazed. Then he got back up and roared.

"I think I made him angry!" Dipper shouted to the crowd, who cheered appreciatively.

"Kick his ass, Tyler!" Jacob cried out. "No offense, kid," he told Dipper. Dipper shrugged nonchalantly.

Tyler charged Dipper, who instinctively put his forearms up to block, leaving his stomach open. Weirdly, the big guy didn't take advantage of that, settling for giving a flurry of hooks and jabs. He backed Dipper into a corner, then brought his knee up into Dipper's stomach.

Dipper grunted and fell over. He could feel a bruise forming already. The crowd gasped, and Jacob yelled, "Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"Get his ass out of here!" one of the gym rats yelled at Tyler. The others shouted agreement, not out of loyalty to Dipper (although maybe a little fear was involved), but personal integrity to gym rules.

Dipper forced himself up and waved them off. "We're keeping this fight on!" he shouted at the rats, who muttered among themselves cautiously.

 _Finally,_ Dipper thought, _I can fight my way_. A smile grew on his face. A smile different then his grin. His grin was a warning. His smile told his opponent that it was too late.

Tyler charged him. Dipper prepared himself for the left cross, moved to the left side, and punched Tyler right on the earlobe.

While normally painful, it shouldn't have done lasting damage, just a little stunning. But the earring cut into the side of Tyler's neck, and he howled in pain as blood poured out.

Normally, the crowd would have reacted much in the same way that they did to Tyler, but when Dipper did it, they cheered. In their opinion, Tyler broke the rules first, so he got what was coming to him.

Bright red blood stained Tyler's white sleeveless shirt. He yelled in disgust and tore it off, simply ripping it apart. Dipper realized why he kept his shirt on in the first place.

There was a small bump on his sternum. It was pink. It kind of looked like-

"Oh my god!" one of the rats yelled. "He's got three nipples!"

The crowd broke out in laughter. Jacob joined in. Dipper allowed himself to crack a smug smirk. One that promptly disappeared when Tyler yelled, "I am going to kill you!" and charged him.

Dipper looked at his eyes. _Oh my god, he's actually going to kill me_ , Dipper thought.

Mabel taught him one thing about Krav Maga.

He ran toward Tyler, and as they met in the middle, Dipper ducked down and gave a sweep kick to his leg. Tyler toppled forward, almost levitating in midair. Dipper popped back up, raised both of his fists above his head, and slammed them down on the back of Tyler's head.

The big man went down face-first and didn't get back up.

The crowd went wild. A few jumped into the ring and raised Dipper's hands in victory. Jacob was clapping and grinning.

Dipper grinned himself, out of pure joy this time. Then realization dawned on him. His uncles were _not_ going to be happy about this. "I gotta go," he mumbled, excusing himself. He grabbed his bag of clothes, mentally noting to wash them at home to get the spit off, and made a beeline for the door without bothering to put a shirt on. The crowd didn't notice him go. Well, most of the crowd.

As he slung the bag over his shoulders and started jogging home, a voice behind him said, "Hold up, dude!" Dipper turned, and saw Jacob at the doorway.

"Oh. Hello," he said uncomfortably. "Sorry for beating up your friend."

"Pfft," Jacob snorted. "That ain't my buddy. He's just some asshole that thinks we're workout partners. Thanks for kicking his ass before I did."

Dipper hid the surprise. "Yeah, well. Someone had to."

"What school do you go to?" Jacob asked.

"Gravity Falls High."

"No way! You're, what, a sophomore? I'm a senior."

"Junior, actually."

"What's your name?"

Dipper blinked. No one had actually asked that before. "Dipper. Dipper Gleeful."

"Nice to meet you, dude. I'm Jacob Crawley. You ever thought about playing basketball?"

This was probably the longest, most unexpected conversation that Dipper had ever had with anyone outside of Mabel and the uncles. "Uh, no."

"We need a few kids. If you wanna join, you should. You're tall enough, and you seem mean enough." Jacob shrugged. "Just a thought. "See you later."

"Yes, I'll see you in a month. That's when school starts, right?" Dipper asked.

"Yep." With a grin, Jacob walked back into the gym, yelling, "Stop jumping on him!"

Dipper found himself grinning.

"Suck on that, Mabel," he told himself. He started jogging back to home, and the grin quickly faded as he realized that next on his list was helping Ford's mad experiments.

Ah well. If his uncle accidentally killed him, at least he made a friend today.

Dipper heard the sirens before he got home. He sighed and ran a bit faster. He opened the front door to get a faceful of smoke. Dipper coughed and waved his way through.

Stan was already manning the fire extinguisher. He nodded casually to Dipper. "What was it this time?" Dipper asked. "Demons? Did he try to summon a volcano in the basement?"

"I think he burned his food in the microwave again," a voice behind him said, and Dipper nearly jumped out of his skin.

Instead, he stayed where he was and said coolly, "Hello, Mabel."

Mabel walked out in full view, dressed in her usual blue suit with tights. A hairband with a pendant adorning it crossed her hair. She said, "Hello, loser," and walked into the kitchen

Stan had the fire under control, and put the extinguisher back into its case on the wall. "I think the kid has a point, Dipper. Sixer's microwave is hooked up to a nuclear generator, remember? Might have gone kaboom."

"I'll go check it out," Dipper said. "First just let me put a shirt on." He walked upstairs to his spotless room. He grabbed a shirt, pulled it on, and started when he saw Will in the mirror. "Hello, Will."

"Master Gleeful, I saw that your nose is bleeding," he said worriedly, "so I brought a first aid kit!" He held it out.

Dipper took it. "Thanks, Will." He opened it and sighed. "Why is it filled with Hot Pockets?"

"Oh!" Will looked inside. "I believe those are four-cheese pizza flavored ones."

"Fantastic. But why are they in the first-aid kit?" Dipper was getting a little frustrated.

"Quoth Mabel and her trio of heathens, 'It will be very hilarious'," Will explained. "Except they didn't use the word 'very'."

Dipper sighed. "Well, that's not surprising. Go grab a new one from the store."

"Yes, Master Gleeful." Will picked up the first-aid kit, then hesitated. "What shall I do with all these Hot Pockets?"

Dipper smiled sadistically. "I believe that under Mabel's sheets on her bed would be a good place."

Will nodded and vanished.

"Is it that obvious?" Dipper asked himself, and looked at his nose in the mirror. He winced. Blood covered the space between his nose and his lip, and some of it streaked down his cheek until it looked like it ran into his mouth. His nose itself looked pink and swollen.

"Okay, it's that obvious. But not one of the other two noticed?" He thought about it, decided that once again, he wasn't surprised, and washed his face off. When he decided it was clean, he walked downstairs.

The door to the elevator was open. Dipper walked into it and pressed the button that sent him to lab. As it slowly descended, he wondered absently if he should try to get some elevator music installed.

As he stepped out, wondering whether soft jazz or the song about liking piña coladas would be a better fit, Dipper reached an arm up and caught the ball that flew towards him at fifty miles an hour.

"I'm here, Ford," he shouted, which he felt was rather self-explanatory. "And I've got your ball."

"Ah, good! Bring the specimen over here," Ford called from the other side of the lab.

"Specimen?" Dipper took a closer look at the ball. A ball which was furry. And mobile.

And very bitey.

The hamster sank its fangs into the side of Dipper's hands. He winced, thinking about getting some disinfectant, then hurried over to Ford. There was an empty hamster cage, and Dipper flung the little rodent into it. He locked the cage, and the hamster crawled up to the bars and growled at him. Tried to growl - it was more of an adorable, aggressive squeak at him.

"Why?" Dipper simply asked. He had learned a while ago to keep the questions simple, or Ford would ramble off on some unrelated tangent.

"That is my newest experiment!" Ford replied brightly, pushing his glasses back up on his nose and tapping the cage. The little devil ran up to the bars and tried to bite his finger through them. Dipper gaped on the inside. The bastard really did have fangs.

"What?"

"It's an other-dimensional being that disguises itself to appear to be a hamster, but its bite sucks a bit of blood. When it has your blood, it wants a bit more. It didn't bite you, did it?"

"...No," Dipper lied. "So it's like a hamster bloodhound?"

"More like a hamster vampire. Which is why I'm calling it-"

"Please don't call it the Hampire."

"-the Hampire! Name pending."

"I don't have the patience to argue with your stupid names. You need my help with something?"

"Yes, I do!" Ford sighed happily. "It's so nice to have a helper. Back in the other dimension, I did this all by myself. And now I have someone almost as enthusiastic as me!" He reached over and ruffled Dipper's hair, but he never took his eyes off the Hampire.

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. What do you need?"

Fifteen minutes later, he had the fire extinguisher pointed at the portal that Ford had been working on. Ford had on his hazmat suit and was hiding behind an overturned table.

"Okay, when it pokes its head out, spray it!" Ford called out.

"Shouldn't I be wearing the hazmat suit, Ford?!" Dipper yelled back.

"Yes, probably!" The mad scientist gleam was in his eyes again. "Think of it as an experiment!"

"What kind of experiment?"

"How much radiation can a human take? Turning on in 3…"

"What?!"

"2…1… It's on!"

The portal sparked, and then started glowing. A pink and purple spiral appeared in the middle, and Dipper felt the suction. He ground his feet into the ground and grit his teeth.

The air started whistling past him and into the portal. It suddenly stopped. So did the suction.

Dipper and Ford were quiet. "Why did it stop?" Dipper asked. "The portal's still on."

"Well, either I finally fixed it," Ford said, a combination of fear and excitement in his voice, "or there's something blocking the other side."

As if on cue, a roar came from the other side. "Why is always the second one?" Dipper asked the heavens, and a head poked out of the portal.

It looked like Bigfoot's bigger, older, _redder_ cousin. It was big enough to fill up the portal, which was enormous in diameter, but the only thing that could fit was its neck. Its fur was a bright, candy-apple red.

It turned its head to look at Dipper, who stared at it in curiosity and horror. Dipper noted in the back of his head that Bigfoot had a unibrow.

Then it roared, and Dipper got a look at Bigfoot's teeth.

"Holy shit," Dipper said, and it roared.

As long as it stayed there, Dipper and Ford combined could take care of it. Ford had the laser gun that he stole from the US army a few weeks ago (long story). They could evaporate the sucker and-

Then the head caught on fire.

"HOLY SHIT!" Dipper yelled, and rolled out of the way as a beam of heat exploded from its mouth. The blast hit a map of the universe on the wall and totally destroyed Uranus.

Dipper heard himself screaming like a little girl as he blasted the head with foam from the extinguisher. It put out the fire, but the beast still roared at him and tried to reach him. Dipper looked at it, and an idea came to mind. He lunged forward, dodging the mouth, and slammed the extinguisher into the edge of the portal. With a crunch, it splintered into pieces and powered off, and with a sick slice, the beast's eyes rolled back into its head, which popped up like a demented Jack-In-The-Box.

Breathing heavily, Dipper stared at it. Ford broke the silence, yelling, "You imbecile! I wanted to study it alive!" He roughly smacked Dipper in the back of the head.

Dipper whirled on him, rubbing his head. "Where the hell were you?!" he demanded. "I could have died for your stupid science project, while you were hiding behind your desk!"

"Do not talk to me that way, boy," Ford threatened, but Dipper brushed it off and stood face-to-face with him. After six summers, they were eye level, finally.

"No, old man, you listen to me," Dipper snarled. "I have been helping you for years now. I risked my life trying to summon an abomination while you hid in a corner and screamed, 'Take the kid instead!'"

"And that turned out well," Ford protested. "The monster is now loyal to you and only you."

"I've cleaned up your messes, I've wiped the minds of everyone involved, I've lied to the entire damn town about what you do down here, and how do you thank me?" Dipper's eyes glowed dangerously. "You force me to do your stupid performances, you force me to get _this_ -" He rubbed his right shoulder. "-and you say that you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"I am," Ford said coldly. "I was more than willing to let you and your sister die on the street, but here you are, in the biggest mansion in town, with one of the biggest magic shows in the world, with your own supernatural butler at your beck and call."

"No, Ford, you're a plague to this town," Dipper growled, and began floating an inch or two off the ground. Ford eyed him. "Never forget what you brought into your home," he said, and his voice echoed across the room. "You brought _me_."

"Maybe so," Ford said calmly. "But I also brought your greatest weakness." He pulled out a blue vial from nowhere and shook it. Dipper saw it, and his eyes widened.

"Is that-"

Ford threw it in the air and caught it at the last second. "Do you really want to find out?" he said quietly.

Dipper immediately landed and put his hands up. "Okay, okay!" he shouted in panic. "Don't drop it!"

Ford smiled sinisterly and put it away.

Dipper's eyes lost the supernatural glow, but not the rage-filled one. "I will _not_ forget this, Ford." His hands contracted into fists.

"Oh, you will," Ford said casually, and quick as a flash, he pulled out a gun and shot Dipper.

He collapsed to the ground, and Ford quickly stashed the weapon. Quickly, Dipper groaned and asked, "Did we get it?"

"Yes, we did, my loyal assistant!" Ford chirped brightly. "Actually, it was mostly you. Congratulations, you have successfully defeated a Bigflare!"

Dipper looked over and saw the severed head of the monster. "Ew. I guess I must have passed out."

"Yes, that is what tends to happen facing monsters," Ford chuckled. "But you gave it hell, and you won! Thanks to you, my research can continue."

Dipper stood up wobbily. He walked over to the head and kicked it lightly. "Huh. I kicked a flaming Bigfoot's ass. Go me. Need anything else, Ford?"

"No, thank you. Go say hello to Mabel for me, will you?"

"I'll try. See you, Ford." Dipper walked over to the elevator and took one last glance at the lab. He internally sneered when he saw his uncle waving with an enormous smile on his face. He couldn't help but dislike him. For the last few years, he had been using Dipper as a tool to cover up his own science experiments. Dipper doubted that Ford knew that he knew, and he intended to keep it that way. He never let his emotions boil over, and he wasn't about to start now.

He had no doubts that he could take Ford head-on in a fight, though. After all, Dipper was dangerous.

Mabel was lying on her bed, texting Candy and Grenda when she heard it. _hol up i gotta check smth real fast_ , she texted, and then jumped off her bed and slowly stalked down the hallway to their shared bathroom.

As she got closer, the ungodly noise got louder. The louder it got, the worse it sounded. By the time she reached the door, it was unbearable, but she could make out the words now. Mabel smirked and kicked the door in.

" _So I put my hands up, they're playin' my song…_ " her idiotic (and tone-deaf) twin sang loudly. " _The butterflies fly away! Yeeeeeaaaaah! It's a party in the USA! Yeeeeeeaaaaah! It's a party in the-_ "

"Dipshit, shut up!" she yelled. A muffled yelp came from behind the curtain. It shifted and Dipper poked his head around it, one hand clutching a bottle of shampoo that he had clearly been using as a microphone.

"What do you want?" he said, attempting to sound as contemptuous as possible.

Mabel wasn't buying it. "I want you to stop singing terrible music!"

"HEY!" Stan yelled from downstairs. "I'll have you know that Party In The USA is a CLASSIC!"

"For once, he's right." Dipper's tone had gone back to totally smug. Mabel rolled her eyes, told him he was #1, and stalked back to her room.

Dipper groaned when she was out of earshot. "If I can't goof off in the shower," he grumbled, "where can I goof off?"

One benefit of having friends, he noted, is that you can be as dumb as you want with them. He often observed Mabel, Candy and Grenda causing mayhem, stealing candy on Halloween, and setting random trash cans on fire, He had always secretly envied that kind of friendship. His closest friend was Will.

Jacob. Dipper blinked. He had forgotten about Jacob. While he had no doubts that Jacob would be the wild friend, Dipper himself knew that he was too responsible to be crazy. He sighed. Maybe someday he'd loosen up.

But now, he brightened as he turned off the shower and grabbed the towel, was one of his favorite parts of the day. And with that, Dipper put on some clothes and marched downstairs.

He parked himself in front of the TV with a bag of popcorn that Will Cipher had made for him, found the remote under the couch cushions, and flipped through the channels until he found something he liked - namely, _Duck-Tective_. Dipper tried to ignore the crashing going on in the basement and hoped that Ford wouldn't blow up the house until the show was over.

Apparently, the avian investigator and his partner, Commodore Theodore Somadore, were investigating the theft of 15,000 chicken nuggets. Why someone had 15,000 chicken nuggets, Dipper had no idea, but for once he turned his brain off and watched as Somadore ate one of the remaining chicken nuggets while the duck stared at him in disgust.

"Hmm, the trail is fresh!" the Commodore declared as he pointed a finger up. "The dastardly culprit must be close by!"

"You monster, that was my uncle Harvey!" Duck-Tective quacked through subtitles.

"I agree, partner! My tracking skills are marvelous!"

Dipper yawned, and looked out the window to his right. A group of kids were heading to the woods behind the row of houses in his neighborhood. He watched with interest as they vaulted the fence to his neighbor's backyard.

There were four kids, two guys and two girls. The first boy was short, but his hair was stark white and made up for about six inches in an impressive pompadour. He scaled the fence slowly, but surely. His blue vest got caught on the top of the fence when he tried to climb down on the other side, and he dangled in the air, yelping for someone to get him down while the others broke down laughing.

The first girl was… not really _fat_ , but heavy set. Her green T-shirt had an exclamation mark on it, and the back read, _Good deals now at the Mystery Shack!_ She must work at that old tourist trap. The girl seemed about ten years older than the others. She yelled, "Oh my gosh, Gideon! Are you okay?" She climbed the fence slowly and unhooked his vest. He fell to the ground with a comical "Oomph!" A book fell out of one of his inside pockets.

"Thanks, Melody," the boy called Gideon groaned as he grabbed the book. It briefly flashed in the light, and Dipper noted that it had a handprint with a 3 inscribed on the cover.

The second boy said, "There must be an easier way to do this." He looked nervous, and Dipper realized that he recognized him. It was Robbie Valentino, a senior. He was always on the Academic Super Bowl teams for math and science. He pushed up his glasses. "Seriously, there must be a gate or something-"

"DO IT!" Gideon and Melody shouted happily. "It's easy!"

"Well…" he bit his lip. "Okay, fine." With that, he closed his eyes and began to climb. Five second later, he asked, "Am I at the top yet?"

"You haven't even left the ground," Gideon told him.

"It's like seven feet," the girl behind him said. "You got this, come on."

Dipper noticed the girl and his heart stopped for a second.

She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Her blonde hair came down to her waist in a ponytail, and she had long, athletic legs that she showed off in jean shorts. She wore a bright red, oversized sweater and tennis shoes.

She was also very athletic. "Pacifica," Melody warned, "what did I tell you about jumping over things taller than you?"

Pacifica wore a goofy grin. "That I look _amazing_ while doing it?" she responded brightly. Then she backed up a few steps, took a running start, and vaulted the fence.

Dipper gaped as she grabbed the top bar and pulled herself into a handstand, never dropping the grin. She held herself there for a few seconds, then jumped over and landed on her feet next to Gideon and Melody.

"That was dangerous!" Melody chastised, but looked as if she was used to it by now.

"Show off," Gideon muttered, and Pacifica stuck her tongue out at him.

Dipper was amazed. He had seen professional gymnasts who couldn't do that.

Meanwhile, Robbie was having a fantastic time. "Oh my god why is the fence shaking is it a bird get it off!" he screeched as he held on for dear life.

"He's still not over that?" Pacifica asked, laughing. "I swear, we will leave your nerdy ass here!"

"You better not!" Robbie pulled himself over with a gasp and landed painfully. Gideon offered him a hand and he took it. "Thanks."

"You know," Gideon told him, "I don't get it. We ask if you want to hunt monsters in the woods, you say sure. We ask you to climb a fence, you wimp out."

"No," Robbie said, "you asked if I wanted to _watch_ you guys hunt monsters. I don't feel much like hunting monsters after the shapeshifter made me watch as Paz killed me."

Pacifica's face darkened and she dropped her sunny smile for the first time. "Don't mention the shapeshifter," she said.

"Uh, right." Robbie seemed to be attempting to swallow his tongue. "My bad."

"Okay then!" Melody said brightly, changing the subject. "Let's go take care of some monsters!"

Gideon and Pacifica whooped and ran towards the woods, with the other two trailing behind.

Duck-Tective still played, but Dipper was lost in thought. That girl, Pacifica… she seemed different. Most of the people in Gravity Falls were strange, but habitual. It was almost as if the insanity of their surroundings had stolen their energy to do anything different. After living here for six years, Dipper knew that most of the town wore blue and gray, his own family included. They were the colors of the high school sports teams, the colors of almost every building on his block. Even his and his sister's stage costumes were blue and gray. It was monotonous.

And then she came, and she was full of color and energy and excitement. She jumped fences, she smiled with the force of the sun, and she seemed _fun_.

Dipper smiled at the thought of her. "At least something's changing here," he said out loud. Then his mind wandered.

Dipper pondered the book. His great-uncle Ford would love that book. He said that there was something hidden in the pages, something fantastic, but deadly. Ford had a book just like it, and Dipper tried to read it once to no avail. Most of it was in code, and he didn't have time to decipher that. Ford wrote it, though, and said that what was written in both books was the most dangerous thing in all of Gravity Falls.

Dipper snorted. _He_ was the most dangerous thing in Gravity Falls.

Well, him and his sister.

As if on cue, something exploded in Mabel's upstairs bedroom. Cackling followed.

Dipper turned his attention back to the TV. He watched for a while, almost appalled at his own interest in it. _This is a kid's show,_ he told himself. _I can't believe this. I'm sixteen, I'm the most powerful person in town, and I'm watching a kids show._ But he continued watching with interest, and soon, Duck-Tective and Commodore faced down the crook. Suddenly, the bird whipped out a revolver with his wing and shot the culprit point-blank in the face. Dipper sat upright in his seat. "This just got interesting."

"Well done, my loyal avian partner!" the Commodore chuckled. "We've really _quacked_ this case-"

The duck shot him in the leg. The Commodore screamed in another language - Spanish?

"What the hell?" Dipper asked under his breath as the two yelled at each other back-and-forth in Spanish. The gun went off, and the Commodore rocked backward as blood rolled down his face. The TV paused on its own, and a hand fell on Dipper's shoulder. In a flash, Dipper was up and shoving his forearm on his foe's throat before he knew who it was. He pushed him to the kitchen and slammed him against a wall and then realized who.

"Master Gleeful!" Will Cipher wailed. "I did not mean to disturb! I am sorry! Please release me!"

Dipper slowly let him go. Will collapsed to the ground, wheezing. Dipper looked at him suspiciously. He seemed the same as he usually did - waistcoat, blue hair, legs that seemed too long and slender - but something felt off.

He shrugged it off. "Sorry about that, Will," he said nonchalantly. "You startled me. Don't make that mistake again."

Will's choked gasps turned nasty. Then he started laughing maniacally. "Oh, I won't."

"Will?" Dipper asked, unnerved.

He turned his head upward, and his eyes were yellow. "Not Will," Dipper answered himself, raising an eyebrow and reaching for the broom.

"Will? Will Cipher?" The thing in the servant's body stood up, and it started to change. His normally blue clothes and hair turned bright yellow. His waistcoat turned into a dapper yellow longcoat. His pants turned baggier and khaki, growing pockets all over until he wore a pair of cargo pants. His normally white undershirt changed into a black T-shirt with a white design - a triangle in the middle of a wheel with images. Dipper noticed a shooting star, a question mark, a broken heart, and… a llama? Dipper decided that he had bigger issues.

"Will"'s face contorted. His usual timid frown turned into a Cheshire grin, while his eye… Dipper backed away in revulsion. Pink, intestine-looking string appeared from his eyelid and sewed his right eye closed.

The thing that was not Will took off the usually small top hat that he wore (and that the twins had never been able to take off) and tapped it on the side. It turned into a maroon fez. He grunted irritatedly and tapped it a few more times. Dipper watched with caution as the hat turned into a baseball cap, a fedora, a blue and white cap with a blue pine tree on it, and finally a long, thin top hat with a yellow stripe running through it. "Will" situated it on his head proudly.

"Now, where were we, Pine Tree?" he asked. "Oh right, you called me Will, but as you can see-"

"You're not Will," Dipper finished, remaining calm. "Obviously."

"You guessed it, Pine Tree!" the thing said cheerfully. "My name's Bill! Bill Cipher, at your service. Shake on it?" Bill extended his hand.

"No, thank you," Dipper said cordially. _Always be nice to strangers,_ his mother had always taught him, although he doubted that she was talking about strangers who possessed your butler. "So, Bill, can you please get out of my servant? I need someone to clean up my idiotic sister's room."

"Hah! I don't think I can do that, Pine Tree."

"Why do you keep calling me Pine Tree?"

Bill cocked his head. "Hmm. Guess this isn't the dimension I aimed for. You aren't my Pine Tree. Usually, Pine Tree would have started screaming in that scratchy, prepubescent voice of his. Your name is Dipper, right? Dipper Pines?"

"No," Dipper said, slightly insulted that he could be mistaken for those conmen down the road at the tourist trap. Gideon was related to that family… somehow. Great-uncles, maybe. "Dipper Gleeful."

"How old are you? Twelve? Five? Seventy two?"

"I'm old enough to not tell you."

Bill laughed uproariously at that. "You at least seem smarter than Pine Tree!"

Dipper decided it was time for a few questions of his own. "Who and what are you?"

"My name, as I said, is Bill Cipher. What am I?" He seemed to ponder the question. "I am like your Willy Cipher, but worse. Much worse." His sewn eye was swollen and pink by now, and it unnerved Dipper.

Bill seemed to notice, and pulled a black eyepatch out of nowhere and pulled it over his eye with an elastic snap.

"Where do you come from?" Dipper asked. "Hell? I didn't think that existed."

"No, not from downstairs. Not from upstairs in Heaven either. I come from…" Bill seemed to think about it. "Sideways of here. No offense, but I don't think you're my Pine Tree."

"And you're not my Will Cipher," Dipper agreed. "So how will you get back to Sideways?"

"Oh, I don't know. I think I might stay here for a while. This dimension seems conquerable."

"What do you mean?" Dipper asked, his mind readying himself for a conflict.

"Oh, you know our kind," Bill said amiably. "We're always after the same thing. World domination. Armageddon. Parties 24/7. Free pizza deliveries."

"While that sounds… fun…." Dipper said, thinking over his next few words, "I think that I speak for the human race when I decline your offer."

"Oh, it wasn't an offer," Bill said, his eyes hardening. "It was a promise. Now let me do it, and maybe I'll spare you. Heck, I might even throw in your sister's life as well."

Bill smiled as if he expected Dipper to comply.

Needless to say, Dipper didn't. "You aren't conquering anything," Dipper said, voice calm but eyes narrowing. "I am the most powerful thing on earth."

"No," Bill said, laughing, "you _were_."

Quick as a flash, he darted over to Dipper and backhanded him across the face. Dipper flew into the cabinet across the kitchen and collapsed to the ground.

"Look upon me, kid," Bill snarled, all cheerfulness gone. "You thought you were the top of the food chain? Not anymore."

Dipper groaned and got up. He felt a cracked rib. "What the hell are you?" he yelled in panic, too dazed to be calm.

"Dream demons like me and your old pal Will?" Bill cracked his neck. "We're gods. That's what we are."

"Dream demons?" Dipper mind went back to his journal. He grinned, showing sharpened canines. "So I'm dreaming?"

Bill's grin dropped a bit. "I shouldn't have said that."

If Dipper was dreaming, then he could do anything.

Anything.

"News for you, Bill Cipher." A knife slid out of Dipper's sleeve as soon as he thought of it. "You're not the apex anymore. See you later."

"Kid, wait!" Bill shrieked.

Dipper stabbed himself in the chest, and woke up with a start.

His hand instinctively went to his chest. No mark. His rib felt sore, but not broken.

Duck-Tective still played, but no one got shot in the face. He groaned in pain, and turned off the TV. "Will!" he called.

Will Cipher teleported to him instantly. Dipper was thankful that he was back to the waistcoat, blue color and skinny jeans. Both of his eyes were intact.

"Yes, Master Gleeful?" he asked timidly.

"I need you to ask Great-Uncle Ford about dream demons, and how to protect the house from them."

Will paled as much as he could, seeing as he didn't have a lot of color in the first place. "Did you have a nightmare, Master Gleeful?"

"Something like that." He gently pushed him. "Go fast, before night."

"Yes sir."

"Oh, and get me the first-aid kit. You have cleaned out the Hot Pockets, right?"

"Yes. What is the matter?"

"I think I might have broken my rib."

Will's eyes widened. He disappeared, then reappeared a moment later. He silently handed the kit to Dipper, then vanished again.

Dipper took his shirt off and started wrapping his chest. It wasn't broken, but he wasn't going to take any chances."

The doorbell rang as he was sliding his sweatshirt back on. "Who is it?!" Mabel yelled from upstairs.

"I don't know! I'll get it!" Dipper hollered back.

"It better not be Girl Scouts selling their disgusting cookies!"

"We don't have those in Gravity Falls."

"Or Jehovah's Witnesses!"

"We don't have those either."

DING DONG! DINGDONGDINGDONGDINGDONGDING-

"Okay, I'm coming!" He opened the door. "No, I'm not interested in joining - what?"

At the door was the pretty blonde girl with a purple tank top on, having shed her sweater. She was covered in sweat, blood, and… sparkles?

"We need your help," she panted, and Dipper was too surprised to answer.

"My cousin... I think he's dying."

Hey guys, so this is my first ever piece of writing that I've published. Feel free to tell me what I did wrong! Not too free, though. I'm sensitive.


	2. Day Off - Chapter Two - Runner

It was Pacifica Northwest's day off, and she was going to enjoy it if it killed her.

At the rate it was going, it probably _would_ kill her.

She catapulted off her fold-out bed on the couch at 9:30 in the morning and ran down the hall in her pajamas, whooping up a storm. Gideon peered out of his room, dark circles under his eyes and his normally prim hair sticking out all over.

"Keep it down, will you?" he groaned. "I've been up all night studying."

"What are you studying for?" Pacifica asked, giggling as she poked some of the strands of white hair that hung out of place. "It's the middle of June!"

"College prep classes," he answered. "You can never start too early. I'm thinking AP Chemistry, AP Calculus, AP Computer Sciences-"

"Slow down," Pacifica teased. "I don't think you'll miss out on anything for one day. Besides," she waggled her eyebrows, "today is a perfect day for monster hunting," she finished in a singsong voice.

Gideon's face brightened and he said excitedly, "It is a perfect day! And I've got just the monster!" He ran back to the desk in his room and pulled out the journal.

Paz followed him. "What is it?" she asked.

Gideon flipped through the pages one at a time, very slowly. He was either trying to not mess up the pages or he was playing it out melodramatically. Both were equally possible.

Pacifica fought the urge to fall asleep by commenting on every monster there.

Leprechaun. "Aww!"

Unicorn. "So evil, but so majestic!"

Shapeshifter. "No."

Zombies. "I told you we shouldn't have sold that karaoke machine."

Gnomes. "NO."

Something titled in code. "Why is there a giant baby in your journal?"

Finally, Gideon got to the right page and showed it to her. "Bam!"

It was… it was…

"OHMYGODTHATSTHECUTESTTHINGIVEEVER _SEEEEEEEEN_!" Pacifica squealed. It was a brown corgi, with dotted eyes and a goofy grin with its tongue hanging out.

"Yeah, and that's how it gets you," Gideon said ominously. "It breathes fire, spits acid, farts… something-"

"It fights by farting?! We need to find this thing! What's it called?"

"It's called a Corgon. You know, like corgi and dragon. We'll hunt it at around two-thirty, okay?"

"Sounds good!" Pacifica ran for the door. "I'll take a shower, you call Robbie and Melody!"

"Deal!" Gideon said after her. "And no, you can't hunt the monster in footie pajamas this time!"

"No fun!" Pacifica's voice drifted around the corner.

As she turned the water onto all the way hot, Pacifica danced around the bathroom, singing barely-coherent lyrics that she made up as she went. She sang in the shower, she sang through breakfast, and she sang as she read the grocery list.

-Pig food

-Wrench

-Motor Oil

-Hair gel

-Sammich material

"Uncle Bud!" she yelled into the garage. "I'm going shopping and I need your credit card!"

Bud rolled out from under a car and wiped the grease and sweat from his forehead. "Okay, sweetie! It's on the counter! Have a fun day off!"

"Thanks, Bud." She walked inside, and finally felt the last of the morning sugar-rush fade away. Her hands stopped twitching, and she grabbed the card and keys to the golf cart. As Pacifica hopped into the drivers seat and gunned the engine, she heard bleating. She looked down, booted Gompers the goat out of the cart where it had made its bed, and drove off into town.

In most ordinary towns, driving around on a golf cart would be illegal and would net you a hefty fine. It was impossible to mistake Gravity Falls for an ordinary town, though. As Paz cruised through the streets, she waved to everyone, and everyone waved back. Pacifica flipped through the radio station - she mentally thanked Melody - and found a classic rock station that she blared. It got a look of approval and a devil-horns gesture from Manly Dan, and a glare from a flock of nuns.

"Where do the nuns even come from?" Pacifica asked herself. "We have like one church, and it's Mormon."

She was deep in thought as she pulled alongside a police car at a stop light. The window slowly opened, and a cop peered out. He had a hook going through his nose, and at his forehead he had the tattoo FOREHEAD, at his chin the tattoo CHIN, and at his cheek - well, you can probably guess what he had tattooed there.

The cop glowered as Pacifica. "Do you have a permit to be driving around on that hunk of metal?" he asked threateningly.

"Absolutely not!" Paz answered cheerfully.

The man's stern expression melted into a warm grin. "Aw, I love a girl with enthusiasm! You have a good day now, young lady!"

"You too, sir!" She waved goodbye as they took different turns as the light turned green.

She pulled up to the strip mall that contained the bowling alley, Durland's Diner and the grocery store. Pacifica ran into Durland's Diner first. She pulled up a seat at the bar. The bartender turned around and said, "Well, hello there, Miz Northeast!"

Paz didn't bother to correct him on the name. "Hello, Mr. Durland! How's business today?"

"It just got a little better when your shining face walked in," Durland replied cheerfully. "Now what exactly can I do ya for?"

Pacifica had ordered it so many times that she didn't even need to open the menu any more. "I'll take a stack of pancakes with as many chocolate chips and as much syrup you got. Ooh, and whipped cream! With a cherry on top, please."

Durland grinned as he wrote down the order. "Metabolism is wasted on the youth, that's what I always say, ya know?" He pinched a bit of his gut. "See this? This is what you'll grow into," he warned with a comical squint.

Pacifica giggled. "Gotta eat while I can!"

Durland turned and barked the orders to Blubs, the head cook. "Will do, boss man!" Blubs replied cheerfully. He turned to Paz and exclaimed, "Girly girl, how is your cholesterol standing up to all of this? This is enough food to give a water buffalo diabetes!"

"Pfft," she replied sunnily, "I am way stronger than most any water buffalo!"

"Fair enough," Blubs conceded, and started mixing some batter.

Pacifica thought about the two. Were they a couple or not? Pacifica had no idea. She thought her gaydar was spot-on, but her ex-boyfriend told her that she was wrong about that.

As she wolfed down the food, she felt her energy levels dropping. She gave a sigh of relief. Paz knew that she couldn't function throughout the day as crazy as she got in the mornings. Now she acted like a normal sixteen-year old instead of a crazy-ass elementary schooler.

She paid and left a generous tip. As Paz headed out, she pushed a quarter into the old jukebox and selected A9, _Walking on Sunshine_. She headed next door to the grocery store, the song in her head as she grabbed the nearest cart. Humming, she made her way through the aisles, scooping up some bread, ham, cheese, and rainbow sprinkles that she usually put on her cookies. "Do we have cookie stuff at home?" Paz asked herself. "Yeah, I think so. Just in case…" She grabbed a bag of chocolate chips. "Can't go wrong with double chocolate chips. I am so smart."

She walked past the boxes of cereal, pausing briefly to look at the box of Lucky Harms. Paz had no clue who would eat them, but the box art was darkly entertaining. It depicted a smiling leprechaun with what Uncle Bud often called "evil eyebrows" decapitating a grinning unicorn as rainbow blood gushed out.

 _Comes with a free package of unicorn blood_! the words promised. _Buy yours now!_

Pacifica rolled her eyes, but laughed a little. Messed up as this town was, it was hilarious at times. Her friends back home wouldn't believe her stories even if she had pictures.

Pacifica pushed her cart to the other side of the store, which was the department section. It was no Home Depot, but it had what she needed. Namely, wrenches and motor oil. "Doo doo doo, just buyin' some stuff…" she sang to herself absentmindedly as she grabbed a tank of gas for the golf cart. "Doo doo doo, don't know what it's for… Doo doo doo, hopefully it's for fixin' the Cabo…"

The Cabo was a 1985 Dodge Magnum. It was pure white, it got twenty miles per gallon, it didn't have a radio, the brakes squealed, both turn signals were broken, the windows didn't come down all the way, the brights were like the second coming of Jesus Christ Almighty, and it always smelled like pot.

And it was all Pacifica's after high school.

Uncle Bud had promised both her and Gideon cars if they graduated with honors, and they both intended to make good on their promises. Naturally, Gideon didn't have to try at all, but Pacifica, in her own mind, thought that she had the IQ of a sheep, and worked her neon-clad butt off to get all As. So far, she was successful, but not as successful as Gideon.

"Nerd," she said to herself, rolling her eyes and smiling. He probably hadn't budged from his desk with the journal. Either that, or he was doing more homework. Paz hadn't started on her summer reading list, and didn't intend to anytime soon. It was her one break off a year, and she was going to enjoy it, darn it!

She pushed the cart up to the self-checkout and started scanning things herself. Paz liked self-checkout more than anything. It gave her a sense of control over the situation.

After all, in Gravity Falls, you could never _really_ be in control.

Her shoulder twinged and she winced as she felt the bandages underneath her sweater. Paz had been gouged there about a week and a half ago by the unicorn who said she was "impure", whatever THAT meant. What was his name again?

"Prince something, I think," she said out loud to herself, mostly to keep her mind occupied as she scanned items on autopilot. "Prince… Tuckathonamon? No, that wasn't it. Prince… Jeffina? Nope, that was the gnome."

Paz reached for the next item, only to grab thin air. As she swiped the card and walked out with the stuff, she kept thinking. "Prince Giffery? Nope, killer computer. Prince… Hair Gel?" She stopped dead in her tracks. "I forgot the hair gel!" She looked around desperately. "Excuse me, sir?"

The man in a suit who she pointed to looked up from his phone, surprise on his face. "Yes?"

"Can you please watch my cart for a minute or two? I need to run inside and grab something."

"Um - yes, of course."

"Thank you so much! Also, I love your tie!"

The man looked down in surprise. It was a simple white tie with blue pine tree silhouettes adorning it. "Why, thank you," he said proudly. "My daughter bought it for me."

"That is so sweet!" Paz gushed. "Anyway, I'll only be a minute, thank you!" She darted inside, leaving the man chuckling.

As she weaved between the aisles, trying to decide between _Hair Gel For Men_ and _Manly Hair Gel For Men,_ she heard a faint, "Can we go now?" from the other side of the shelf. She peered through and saw a big dude and a skinny dude. The skinny dude had about three packs of Caimanade in his arms and was trying to not drop them.

"Dude, you try lifting all of these," the skinny one grunted.

"Nah, you look like you got it," the fat one said, not looking up from his phone. "I'll just supervision."

"You mean supervise."

"Sure, whatever."

Pacifica read the labels on the Caimanade. "Glacier Freeze, Fire Cherry, Pain Rain," she read to herself. "Sounds like something from Gideon's Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons game."

"Er, you know we can hear you, right?" the skinny one said, trying not to laugh. "You're not particularly quiet."

The fat one wasn't amused. He put his eyes up to the other side of the shelf, directly across from Paz, and glowered. "What are _you_ staring at?" he demanded.

"Uh, nothing," she stammered.

"Tyler, lay off," the skinny dude chastised the fat one, looking as if he wanted to drop the Caimanade and pull him away.

"Jacob, for once in your life, shut the fuck up." Pacifica winced at the language and imagined the soap in her mouth if she had ever said that in front of her parents or Uncle Bud.

"Actually," Paz felt her mouth say, "I _was_ looking at something. I just thought it was strange that the Gravity Falls Zoo just let their gorilla wander around during the day."

Stupid mouth.

Jacob gaped at her, then dropped the Caimanade with a thud and yelled, "9-1-1, I've just witnessed a murder!"

Tyler turned red and roared. He tried reaching through the shelf at her, but Pacifica backed up and bolted. She ran to the checkout line, threw five dollars at the wide-eyed cashier, and ignored the security alarms as she ran out to the cart, which was still there, along with the man in the suit. "THANKS FOR WATCHING THIS TELL YOUR DAUGHTER I SAID HELLO TELL ME WHERE TO GET THAT TIE _BYEEEEE!_ " she yelled in one breath as she pushed the cart past the golf cart. She made a beeline for the hill, and then hopped onto the cart as it rolled downhill. She risked a look backward and saw Tyler and Jacob at the top. Tyler was waving his fists and yelling while Jacob rolled on the ground laughing.

Paz blew a kiss towards them, then said, "And I've stopped rolling. Why have I stopped rolling?" She had reached the bottom of the hill. Hopping off, she looked up again and saw, to her terror, Tyler running down the hill with Jacob following.

"Oh, sparkles!" she swore, and ran, pushing the cart. Running through downtown Gravity Falls, she made a hard left turn and found herself in a dead-end alleyway. Some garbage cans were on the sides of the alleyway.

"Now what?" she asked herself desperately. She looked up. "Not completely dead end," she said, hope in her voice. The wall at the other end of the alleyway was about ten feet tall, with free sky on top of it.

Studying for so much math paid off. "Ten foot wall, three foot trash cans, five-seven me…" She grinned deviously. "I like these odds."

She let go of the cart and looked at how close Tyler was. Pacifica had time. She looked him dead in the eye, grinned mischievously, and disappeared back into the alley with a running start. She jumped up onto the trash can, then leaped to the wall and grabbed the edge of it by her fingertips. She quickly pulled herself over the wall and landed on the other side with a thud and a crack.

Crack?

Paz groaned in disgust with herself and held up her phone. It had an enormous crack running down the screen.

"Stupid, stupid," she told herself. "They won't pay for a new one."

On the other side of the wall, the two had finally arrived, and Tyler swore. "The hell? Where'd that little bitch go?"

"Dude, don't call people bitches," Jacob told him off.

"Stop being a bitch. There's her cart. Did she disappear?"

"I don't know. She might have used parkour to run off that trashcan over that wall." There was a beat, and the two started laughing. "That's a little far-fetched," Jacob admitted.

"Alright, Jacob, let's go to the gym." Paz could hear the menace in Tyler's voice. "I need to hit someone."

"Would not want to be that sucker," Pacifica said as they walked off, cringing in sympathy.

At least she hadn't run into the most dangerous person in town yet. While Tyler looked mad and could probably punch a hole through her face, he was at least slow and weaponless. The same couldn't be said for-

"Well, well, well," a voice behind her drawled. "Lookit what we got here."

Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.

Paz turned around, and standing behind her was Wendy Corduroy, grinning smugly. Surrounding her was her group of lackeys. Pacifica tried to remember their names, but the only one coming to mind was Tambry, the one with pink hair and the phone addiction.

"It's little old Blondie!" Wendy shouted. "I think she's lost, guys! And what do we do to lost little girly-girls?"

"We smash their skulls in!" one guy yelled. His yellow, stained polo shirt strained around his enormous stomach.

"What?" Wendy dropped the sadistic grin for the first time and frowned at him. "Thompson, chill out. Jesus Christ. We're not monsters. We're just gonna rough her up a bit, ruin her sweater."

"Dude, why are you like this?" the tall, skinny blonde guy asked.

"Hands off my sweater!" Pacifica shouted, trying to scare them off.

Naturally, it failed. "Oh, that sweater is hitting the floor," Tambry sneered, then paused. "That didn't come out right."

"Even if we have to cut it off of you," Wendy said sinisterly, and pushed the bottom of her black flannel shirt aside to reveal her weapon.

An axe. Its edge glinted sinisterly in the late-morning light.

Thompson yelled, "Okay, time out. Why is it that when I suggest something violent, you all yell, 'No Thompson, we can't do that', but when _she_ pulls a fuckin' axe on a twelve-year-old, you all are perfectly fine with it? That's just unfair."

"Dude, does it matter?" the short guy in the baseball cap said.

"Yes, Nate, it does!" Thompson complained. "It's-it's-it's ginger favoritism is what it is!"

The other four stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing. "That's your excuse?" the tall skinny one panted.

"Yes!" Thompson turned red in the face as he realized how stupid he sounded. "It's, uh, because gingers don't have souls! And so everyone is their favorites because- HEY! SHE'S GETTIN' AWAY!"

"Sparkles," Paz swore under her breath as she stopped edging along the alley wall. She broke into a sprint, but Tambry grabbed the back of her sweater. With a rip, it tore away in her hands, and Pacifica tried to make her getaway. The only thing standing between her and sweet freedom was Thompson.

Too easy.

Paz whooped like a crazy person and jumped in the air. She turned sideways, and her feet landed in Thompson's stomach in a dropkick worthy of the greatest WWE gods. With a gasp, he toppled backwards, so Paz was standing on top of his stomach. She stepped on his face and leaped off, running back to the grocery store. Behind her she heard, "Oh my god, she just got your ass!" from Wendy's gang.

As she got back to the store, Paz looked around and sighed in relief. Tyler and Jacob had gone to the gym, and the man with the suit was still there.

"Are you okay?" he asked, gaping at her. "You always seem to be running from someone."

"Yes, sir, I'm fine, thanks," Pacifica replied. She felt the back of her sweater and felt nothing. "They broke my sweater!"

The man winced. "Nothing I can do about that. Can you sew it back up?"

"Yeah. I should get home." She boarded the golf cart and started it up. She waved goodbye to the man and took off down the hill, blaring her classic rock music. As Pacifica drove away, an SUV pulled up, and the man in the suit got into the shotgun seat. He kissed the woman driving on the cheek.

"Hi, honey," he greeted.

"Who was that, dear?" the woman asked.

"I have no idea, but she was a bit… different."

"Well, Tad, sometimes different is what we need in this town, isn't it?"

"In this town, yes. But not this family."

"You did buy the bread, right?"

"But of course, my dear."

"Oh, thank you, Tad. You are such a good man."

As the car pulled away, the vanity plate reading STR4NGE glinted in the sunlight.

It was the early afternoon when Paz pulled up to the Mystery Shack and Motor Repair, dragging the shopping cart behind the golf cart with bungee cords. As she unhooked the cart, she yelled, "I'm home!"

The garage door slowly opened, and Melody stepped out, her forehead glistening with sweat and grease. "Hey there, stranger!"

"Hi, Melody!" Pacifica pushed the cart toward the front door. "I accidentally stole another cart."

Melody sighed, unsurprised. "I'll put it with the others when we finish unpacking. But first," she smiled, "someone's happy to see you." She opened the front door and out came Waddles, squealing with joy.

"Oh my gosh, Waddles!" Paz exclaimed, and then the pig knocked her on her butt and started licking her face. "I know, I know, I love you and I missed you and I FORGOT TO BUY PIG FOOD!" She smacked herself on the forehead. "Stupid, stupid!"

"It's okay," Melody consoled. "We'll get it on our way back from monster hunting."

"Oh, right!" Paz brightened as she stood up, tucking Waddles under her arm. "I totally forgot!"

"You forgot about hunting the most adorable thing in the forest?" Melody lifted an eyebrow. "That's not like you."

"Yeah, well, I was getting hunted by the two least adorable things in the town. Wendy Corduroy and some dude named Tyler."

Melody paled. "Tyler? Big dude, strong, slow, kinda dumb?"

"Really dumb."

"That sounds like Tyler Plinketts. I knew him from middle school. He got held back about three times. That makes him, what, a senior in high school now?"

"Yeah, he looked like he was about that age. He was with another kid, tall and skinny. Jacob, I think."

"Oh, right," Melody's face turned into a soft frown. "The _boyfriend_."

"Oh. Are they…?" Pacifica held out her index finger on both hands and touched the tips together. Man, her gaydar really was off.

"No, but they might as well be. Jacob is a good guy, really, but for some reason he keeps hanging out with Tyler."

"Well, there's got to be some way to beat Tyler, right? Some secret of his?" Paz had learned long ago that everyone had secrets, and that was the best way to beat them.

"I'm sure he does. An embarrassing middle name. Weird fetish. Third nipple. Something like that. Those a-holes always do."

"Pfft," Paz giggled. "Third nipple. That's ridiculous."

"Anyway, I think Gideon's asleep at his desk. You might wanna go wake him up."

Paz groaned. "That boy sleeps like a rock."

Melody grinned and pulled an air horn out of nowhere. "You know what to do."

With a gasp, Pacifica dropped Waddles, grabbed it and ran into the house.

Robbie Valentino walked up after her, adjusting her glasses. "Hey, Mel. Where'd Paz run off to?"

"Hey Robbie. Give it a few seconds…"

There was a loud _HONK_ , followed by distant shrieking and laughter. The front door slammed open, and Pacifica ran out, cackling and waving the air horn around. Gideon followed, with only a shirt and a pair of boxers on, chasing her and yelling.

They ran in circles for a few seconds, then Pacifica noticed Robbie and stopped running, staring at him. Gideon ran into her back and fell down. Waddles immediately jumped to action and sat on top of him, licking him like Pacifica had taught him to.

"Hey, Robbie," Paz said shyly. She was still trying to get over her crush on him. But at least Waddles was there to bail her out of awkwardness.

"Good pig!" she told him as she picked him off of Gideon and hugged him.

"'Good pig,' my butt," Gideon groaned as Melody helped him off the ground. "We're not taking that thing with us, right?"

"No, we don't want another dinosaur incident," Melody replied. "Dino-Girls was fun, but I am not trying to do it again."

Pacifica decided not to tell her that she had accidentally set the custom T-shirt that Melody made for them on fire a few weeks ago.

"Those things are still alive?" Robbie asked in mild horror. "I thought that you said you killed them all?"

"Nah, Bud just punched one in the face," Pacifica said, smiling at the memory.

"It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Gideon added.

"Didn't Crazy Lazy Susan get eaten?" Melody said.

"She escaped!" Paz frowned. "I think."

"Moving on!" Gideon opened the journal. "It says that the Corgon can be found in Bonecrusher Woods."

"Who names these things?" Pacifica asked. "Bonecrusher Woods, the Lake of Doom, the Mountains of Agonizing Pain."

"To be fair," Gideon pointed out, "most of the names are pretty accurate. I'd rather not go into the Bonecrusher Woods, but if it was called the Forest Of Sparkles and Rainbows, then I'd go in there and get eaten by gnomes because it sounds super harmless and gnomes are not super harmless."

"Gnomes don't eat people."

"They bathe in squirrels, I don't want to know what else they do. So - Bonecrusher Woods, it can be baited out by the scent of cottage cheese, and they're super dangerous. Let's go!"

The other three cheered.

Paz ran to the golf cart and tried to start it up. With a sputter, it started up, then backfired. Smoke poured out from the hood.

"Let's go for a walk!" Pacifica shouted.

The other three cheered again.

In the garage, Bud slid out from underneath a car and sniffed the air. "My insurance senses are tingling. Is something on fire?" he asked himself.

"Oh my gosh, whose houses are these?" Pacifica gasped as she looked around.

"Welcome to the rich part of Gravity Falls," Gideon told her. "Home to the snottiest of snotty people."

"If they're so snotty, get them a tissue," Robbie joked awkwardly.

While Melody and Gideon booed him, Paz looked around in wonder. She hadn't seen any houses like this since she came here. They were enormous, at least three stories each. They were also very-

"Why are they all blue?" she asked.

Melody looked around. "You know, I've never figured that out," she replied. "Just about everything in this town seems to be blue and gray."

Pacifica had noticed that, and was dismayed when she first arrived. She naturally got out her pink sweaters and tried to change that. She found another blue-and-gray canvas to spread her colors on.

Colors later. Doggy monster now.

A cartoon played on the TV inside the biggest house - Duck-Tective. Paz watched that show regularly. It was just like her life! ...in a way.

The house was three stories and baby-blue. It was big and blue. Therefore, Pacifica decided to call it…

Big Blue.

Wow, she was _amazing_ at nicknames.

"Who lives in that one?" she asked Gideon, who looked up from his journal.

"You remember that magician group me and Bud took you to the first week you got here?" he replied. Paz nodded. "That's their house."

"Huh. I didn't figure them to be this rich."

"They're the most powerful people in the Falls, of course they're rich."

Pacifica stopped walking. "How are a bunch of stage conmen the most powerful people in Gravity Falls?"

"Well," Gideon began, "they're one of the most popular shows in the world. People come from China and those places to watch them. They single-handedly fund all of Gravity Falls. Second, they know everyone and everything. And everyone owes them something."

"Everyone? Even Uncle Bud?"

"Especially Uncle Bud. I have no idea what he needed, but he owes the Gleefuls something big."

"I'm sure that won't be a major plot point later on," Robbie called over.

"What?"

"Nothing." Robbie gestured toward the woods. "Are we gonna kill this thing or what?"

Gideon said, "We're not killing it. We're just studying it for a bit."

Paz snorted. "Right. Studying it until it finds us and we have run away."

"Look on the bright side," Melody offered. "At least it probably doesn't want to marry Gideon like the gnomes."

"Ugh," Gideon groaned while Pacifica giggled. "Don't remind me."

"You still owe Jeffina a phone call," Paz reminded him.

"Yeah, and she owes me a new pair of pants after Shmebulock peed all over it," Gideon grumbled.

"Hey!" Robbie called. "Woods. Corgi. Science."

"Okay, we're coming." Pacifica noticed the fence between houses - the only thing between them and the woods. "I nominate Gideon to go first. Everyone in agreement, say aye."

Melody and Robbie said, "Aye."

"You guys suck," Gideon groused, and slowly began the climb. He hoisted himself over the top, jumped off, and began yelling when his vest caught on one of the top rungs. Robbie chuckled. Paz rolled on the ground, cackling. "Will someone get me off of this?!" Gideon yelled.

"Oh my gosh, Gideon!" Melody cried out in concern. "Are you okay?!" She climbed up next to him and managed to unhook. Gideon went crashing to the ground and grunted in pain. The journal went flying out, and Gideon quickly put it back in his vest.

How does he put that in there? Paz thought for a few seconds. Are the inside pockets that big?

"Thanks, Melody," Gideon said, wincing as he stood back up. Melody stood by him on the other side of the fence.

"There must be an easier way to do this," Robbie told them nervously. "Seriously, there must be a gate or something-"

"JUST DO IT!" Melody and Gideon yelled.

"Okay, fine!" Robbie began to climb. "Am I at the top yet?" he called out in fear.

"You haven't even left the ground." Gideon grinned.

"It's like seven feet, it's easy!" Pacifica told him. She looked around her and noticed another pair of eyes watching her. From the window with Duck-Tective playing, somebody watched the group with interest.

Might as well give the dude a show. She slowly started to back up.

Melody noticed. "Pacifica, what did I tell you about jumping over things taller than you?"

Pacifica's grin widened. "That I look _amazing_ while doing it?" With that, she bolted forward and leapt up, turning upside down in a flip. She grabbed the top of the bar and pulled herself into a handstand. She stayed there for a few seconds, looking at Melody with a cocky gleam in her eye, and then jumped off with a flourish. She landed on her feet next to Gideon.

"Show off," he grumbled. She stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

"OHMYGODTHEFENCEISSHAKINGISITABIRDGETITOFF!" Robbie screamed.

Paz had totally forgotten about him. "He's still on that? We will leave your nerdy butt here!"

"You better not!" Robbie finally pulled himself over the top and landed on his back. Gideon helped him up.

"I don't get it. We ask if you want to hunt monsters in the woods, you say sure. We ask you to climb a fence, you wimp out." Gideon shrugged.

Robbie snapped, "No, you asked if I wanted to _watch_ you guys hunt monsters. I don't feel much like hunting monsters after the shapeshifter made me watch as Paz killed me."

An icy shiver ran down Pacifica's spine. She ignored it and simply said, "Don't mention the shapeshifter."

Robbie went paler than usual. "Uh. Right. My bad."

Melody tried to change the subject. "Right, then! Let's go take care of some monsters!"

Paz and Gideon whooped and took off towards the woods.

An hour and a half later, the novelty of the woods wore off, and Paz was tired.

As they walked along the trail, she absentmindedly swatted another mosquito. If they kept this up, she was gonna look like an empty Kool-Aid pouch. At least they weren't biting her skin in a pattern, like they did with Gideon and his… unique patchwork.

"Hey Gideon!" Robbie yelled from behind them. "Have the mosquitos bitten another dick into your arm?"

"No," Gideon sighed. "Not yet."

Yet again, the strange maraca noise echoed behind her. Paz whipped her head around, but saw nothing and got her long blonde hair stick in a branch.

"Oh, come on," she whined as she untangled it. Paz put it into a ponytail. "Gideon, how far away is this thing?"

"It's about another half-mile or so!" Gideon answered, and then they came to a clearing.

"You sure about that half-mile?" Pacifica deadpanned as they looked around.

It was very bright. The sun came down on them and reflected off of the unnaturally shiny grass. There was a rainbow that came from nowhere, and when Paz strained her ears, she heard a heavenly choir.

She was immediately suspicious.

"Eyes up," Gideon warned. "The Corgon may be adorable, but it's very dangerous." They hid behind a fallen tree, and Pacifica tried not to think about what knocked it over.

"It's a corgi that fights with farts," Melody said lightly, with a cautious grin on her face. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anything. "How dangerous can it be?"

A rock on the other side of the clearing suddenly let out an earsplittingly adorable sneeze.

"Oh my god," Melody said in awe.

"That's bigger than I expected," Gideon said mildly.

"So. Fluffy." Paz was about to go into shock at the cuteness of this thing.

It meandered in their direction, every step causing a small tremor. It was the size of an elephant. Its enormous tongue lolled out of its mouth and it seemed to be smiling as most dogs do.

Pacifica, Melody and Gideon gasped softly in amazement. Only Robbie seemed unaffected by the pure cuteness of this abomination. "Guys," he whispered sharply. "We see it. Can we go now?"

It sneezed again and sat down on its gigantic hindquarters. It started scratching at its nose, then yawned.

"Oh my GOD!" Paz squealed, and it heard her. "Oops."

With a bark, it sprinted to where they were hiding. Screaming, they scattered - Robbie and Paz ran to the right, and Gideon and Melody bailed to the left.

With a crunch, the Corgon stepped on the tree and crushed it into splinters. It howled, and Paz got a nice look at its enormous teeth.

"This is your fault!" Robbie yelped in fear as they sprinted towards the middle of the clearing.

"I know, Robbie!" she snapped. She jumped towards a low-hanging branch and swung herself up to the top. Robbie kept running, and Paz looked over her shoulder to see the Corgon wreaking havoc. It howled again, and flames flew from its mouth. It set the grass behind Melody on fire. She yelped and rolled away.

Paz spotted Gideon slowly creeping towards the Corgon. He held a bunch of shiny stones in his hand. With a yell, he charged towards the Corgon. Instead of turning him into a plate of extra-crispy chicken nuggets (with added hair-gel flavoring), the abomination simply turned around and passed gas.

A mushroom cloud of sparkles burst out of its rear end and covered Gideon. He fell to the ground without a noise.

"G!" Paz screamed. It got the Corgon's attention, and it bared its teeth and sprinted over to her. She climbed the tree higher, just as the monster grabbed the branch she had been standing on and ripped it off violently. Pacifica saw Melody and Robbie grab Gideon and drag him into the dark forest.

With a snarl, the Corgon inhaled. Before it could fry her, Pacifica did the dumbest thing she had done in her already-dumb life.

She yelled like a berserker and leaped off the tree onto the Corgon's back.

As the Corgon thrashed and she held on for dear life, screaming, the only thing that went through her mind was _Well, at least I'll die doing what I love - holding on to something fluffy._

"Hey, you big furry asshole!" a voice below Paz yelled. Paz looked, and lo and behold, Robbie stood, knees shaking, with one of Gideon's stones in his hand. "Suck on this!" Robbie threw it, and it popped the Corgon on the nose. It stopped thrashing. Its eyes rolled back into its head, and he fell over.

Paz landed on the ground and bounced. She groaned in pain. Then she sat up. "Gideon!" Pacifica sprinted over to Gideon and knelt next to him. He was almost comatose. His arm was pale and unhealthy, and Paz saw a lot of blood from a cut. She took off her sweater and wrapped it around his arm.

"Is he gonna be okay?" she asked Melody, who shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know," she answered. "But someone needs to go get help, and fast."

"I'll go," Paz volunteered. "I got us into this mess."

"Uh," Robbie interrupted, "actually, Gideon did-"

"Robbie, this is not the time!"

"You still haven't thanked me," Robbie said smugly.

 _God, why did I have a crush on this idiot?_ "Thanks for the save. Now, I am going to go save my cousin."

"We came in from that way," Melody told her, and pointed toward the splintered log. "Go grab some help there."

"Okay, good luck! Get him back ASAP!"

Paz bolted toward the log and disappeared into the woods.

Melody turned toward Robbie and gave him the stink-eye. "Why are you such an asshole?"

"What?" Robbie said defensively. "I just wanted a thank-you."

"Her cousin is in a coma, about to die! She just tried starting a rodeo with a monster! This is not the time."

"Okay," Robbie whined, " _Sorry_."

The Corgon snorted in its sleep, and the two of them decided to grab Gideon and bail.

Paz sprinted through the woods, about a mile and half from the neighborhood. The return trip was much faster without the other three. The maracas rang again, and Paz almost saw a black shape behind her, but she had bigger issues.

As she sprinted, her mind flashed back to all the things that Bud had said to her over the past few weeks.

 _You are never truly in control in Gravity Falls._

 _There's always someone bigger._

 _You might think you're dangerous, but to the beasts, you're a snack._

Uncle Bud was always a source of hope.

With that, Paz ran facefirst into a spiderweb.

"AW, COME ON!"

She finally got to the neighborhood, sweaty and dishevelled. She ran up to the fence and realized her legs were too dead to jump it, so Paz began the climb. She landed on her leg wrong, and bit her lip to stop from crying out in pain.

Pacifica looked around desperately. The only house with the lights on the inside still on was Big Blue. Her mind raced. Hadn't Gideon said that the two magic kids lived here? What good could they do? They were the only option.

She limped up to their door and rang the bell. There was muffled yelling inside, including something like, "I'll get it!" and "Jehovah's Witnesses!" Paz desperately rang the doorbell, and then the door swung open.

The boy at the door towered over her, but didn't seem threatening. His hair was swept back to reveal a few oddly-patterned zits. It looked like they were in the shape of some constellation that Paz couldn't remember. His bright pink sweatshirt threw her off her game.

The boy looked at her coolly and raised a single eyebrow over an ice-blue eye. Before he say anything, Pacifica felt the pain in her leg catch up to her and she said only one thing.

"We need your help," she panted. "My cousin… I think he's dying."

 **Writing is weird, man. I cranked out about 3k words in about two hours, but the rest of it took me like a week.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading this. In case it isn't obvious, I am very new to fanfic writing, so feel free to critique me (but do it nicely, please. I am missing the ability to take criticism).**

 **Couple of things to know**

 **-My entire knowledge of boxing comes from watching Rocky movies, so it'll probably be inaccurate at some times.**

 **-I know literally nothing of Krav Maga.**

 **-There will be a little Reverse!Mabel, but since I'm not fantastic at writing batshit crazy characters like her, I won't be writing as much.**

 **-I have no idea how long this fanfic will be, but I'll update it until I get bored of it.**

 **-Robbie is still a total douchebag and Pacifica is just now realizing it.**

 **-Soos and Old Man McGucket will figure into the story somehow, but I have no idea how.**

 **-I like the idea of one-word character arcs. For Dipper's arc I'm thinking "Apex" and for Paz's I'm thinking "Dangerous". Corny and kind of vague, I know, but they'll make sense eventually.**

 **Okay, that's probably it. See you next time I write.**


	3. Day Off - Chapter Three - Doc

Dipper Pines was not expecting to see a pretty girl at his door. He was not expecting her to say that someone was dying. And he definitely was not expecting her to pass out.

She slumped forward onto him, and he caught her. Her face went directly into his chest, and he awkwardly hugged her for a moment. "Well, this is new," he deadpanned to himself, and picked her up, pressing her to his body and trying not to think about it. With a grunt, he hoisted her onto the couch, face-up. Dipper checked her pulse and sighed in relief. The girl wasn't dead.

Will Cipher appeared beside him in a cloud of blue smoke and glanced down. "Master Pines?" he said questioningly.

"Will," he replied, "I don't even know. Go get the first-aid kit and a bucket of water."

"Is she alive, Master Pines?"

"For now."

Will disappeared, and Dipper started analyzing her body. "I swear, I'm not a pervert," he sighed to himself as he looked for bruises and scars. There was a minor cut on the side of her face, and a few scratches on her arms. But the biggest injury was her broken leg. Dipper winced as he looked at it. It had been a miracle she had been able to drag herself to the door.

Dipper spread his hands out over the leg. "I shouldn't do this," he told himself. "I should just call a hospital." Hospitals = Ambulances. Ambulances = Attention.

 _Don't make a scene,_ he thought. _Stan's #1 rule. Don't make a scene_.

"Is it too late to go back to Duck-Tective?" he asked himself sardonically, and then closed his eyes and spread his hands over her leg.

Blue powder appeared from nowhere and spread over the break, fading as soon as it touched her skin. Her leg seemed to mend itself on the couch. The girl's breathing stopped being ragged and turned into a slower, more normal pace. A smile spread on her lips as she slumbered.

"Well, that should make her leg better." Dipper started pondering what to do next. "I mean, I guess I could just put her back on the porch. Ooh, or the neighbor's porch. That'll teach him to stop letting his dog poop on my lawn." As he thought, he paced the living room. "Ah, crap. Ford said…"

 _Hell with Ford_ , a voice inside of him piped up. _Old prick. Help her._

"I want to help her, but I don't want Ford to feed me to his demonic gerbil," Dipper argued.

 _Can you handle the weight?_ the voice warned. _Can you handle letting a death happen when you could stop it?_

"Yes." Dipper was hesitant. He honestly didn't know that he was lying to himself.

 _You are a monster._

"Yup."

The voice said no more.

"Okay, where'd I put it?" He patted himself down, then left the girl on the couch and ran to Mabel's room. "Mabel!"

Mabel looked up from her phone and turned down her music. "What?" she asked impatiently.

"Where'd I leave the memory gun?"

"Why do you need it?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

"Uh." For some reason, Dipper really didn't want her to know about their visitor on the couch. "Stan's walking around naked. I need to get that out of my head immediately."

Mabel wrinkled her nose. "Oh. Ew. It's in Ford's Chateau de Creepy Old Man. Aw, man, now it's in my head! This is your fault!"

"Thanks, Mabel. Good luck getting that outta your head!"

As Dipper walked down the hall, he heard Mabel yell, "I call seconds!" after him.

He passed by the girl on the couch and saw that she was still sleeping. "She could give Stan a run for his money," he said to himself. "Will!"

The blue man appeared next to him. "Yes, Master Pines?" He looked over at the couch. "Sir, did you perhaps give her a dose of horse tranquilizer?"

"Uh, no. Wait, we have horse tranquilizer?" He sighed. "Of course we have horse tranquilizer. Look, I need a favor."

"And I thought I was called here for a nice conversation," Will said, totally deadpan.

"First of all, roll back the attitude. Secondly, I need the memory gun from Ford's workshop. Go grab that for me."

"I assume it's for your uncle's security plan."

"Bingo."

"Alas, sir, I cannot."

"What do you mean?"

"Ford has prepared multiple traps down there. If I go, I won't be able to leave. And then who will make you sandwiches?"

"I'd make my own sandwiches."

"Sir."

"Okay, fine. Then go do something useful. Like barricade Mabel's door."

"I assume that you don't want her to get jealous of the other woman in your life, now that she's entered it?"

"Will, I don't even know Sleeping Beauty's name."

"That's what they all say. I'll go and block her door."

"Thank you."

With that, Will vanished. "That was tedious," Dipper said to himself, and walked towards the basement after shooting one last glance at the girl. She was cute when she slept, with her eyes scrunched up with smile lines on her face, like she was having a fantastic dream.

As the elevator silently opened, Dipper peered around. Ford was on the other side of the lab, tinkering with something. Dipper silently crept to the nearest workbench, labeled _FORD'S BENCH - DO NOT TOUCH_. He opened the top shelf and closed it immediately before the thing with the tentacles could escape.

"Ford, what the hell," he muttered. How did that thing survive without oxygen or food or anything? Why was Ford keeping his experiments in his desk?

Dipper pressed on. He opened the next few shelves and found a skull, a golf ball with a stupid-looking Dutch hat on, a stash of Pitt Cola and crappy Halloween candy that they sold year-round in the nearest Penny Shop ("Where everything costs a penny except the ones that don't!" Spoiler alert, nothing cost a penny). He opened the fourth drawer and found a simple test tube with clear water inside with a tape label that said POTION FOR IMMORTALITY.

Dipper held it up high… and promptly stuck it back in the shelf, mentally reminding himself to tell Stan where it was so he could con the next people who showed up at the gift shop on their next show. It was simply water that Stan claimed had his "secret ingredient" in it. Dipper had tasted it once. It had a trace of cinnamon in it. Not bad.

On the fifth shelf, he found what he was looking for - the memory gun. The glass was dusty, but Dipper could make out a few words, written in Sharpie.

 **DO NOT TOUCH, HIGHLY DANGEROUS** , it read. He stuck it in his back pocket and turned to silently leave… and then the damn Hampire squeaked in its cage.

"Shit," Dipper swore quietly.

Across the workshop, Ford sat up straight. "Well, hello there. Nice to see you here…" he paused, and then whipped his head around dramatically. "DIPPER!"

He saw nothing.

The mad scientist deflated in disappointment. "Drat. I wasted an excellent dramatic moment. Stan would be so proud of my acting abilities." He turned to the rodent, who was currently hanging off the bars to the cage, gnawing frantically on the metal. "I thought you were supposed to tell me when he was here so I could surprise him."

The rodent squeaked again.

"Oh, don't give me that. This was our moment, and you ruined it."

Squeak.

As the scientist and the overgrown rat argued with each other, Dipper stood up from his hiding spot behind the workbench and silently crept back to the elevator door. He made eye contact with the Hampire and gave it the double bird. Its eyes turned red, and Dipper decided that was his cue to get the actual fuck out before it ripped the bars of the cage off and came at him for seconds.

As the elevator door soundlessly closed, Dipper heard Ford indignantly say, "What do you mean, my acting is 'a little flat'?!"

Dipper reflected on his day. First, he won a fight against a guy with about two hundred pounds on him. He had beheaded a fire Bigfoot. He had a nightmare with a dream demon from Sideways (whatever that meant). And now there was a cute girl asleep on his couch with a broken leg, a vampiric guinea pig after his blood, and a blue butler distracting his sister so she didn't kill anyone.

And now his uncle was attempting to speak rodent.

This day was getting more interesting by the minute.

"Master Pines!" Will whispered as Dipper walked out of the elevator door and into the living room. "I think that she's been trapped successfully!"

"Good job. What'd you do?"

"I very quietly nailed a few wooden boards across her door! She won't be getting out!"

"How, exactly, are you planning on getting rid of the boards when we're done here?"

Will's satisfied grin faltered. "Oh dear."

"Worry about it later." Dipper entered a few words on the keypad on the memory gun and hefted it. "Time to forget."

As he walked into the living room, Will was on his heels. "You know," he said, "she probably hasn't seen anything. We could just carry her somewhere else."

"She's seen the inside of the house. I can either do this or I can let Ford find her and completely flip out over the fact that there's someone not related to him in the house."

"Sir, I still believe that-"

"Look, Will, just go away and let me do this, okay?!" Dipper finally was starting to get frustrated.

Will simply looked down and vanished with a soft _poof_.

"And now I've hurt his feelings," Dipper groaned. "This day gets better and better. Okay then, new girl, your turn." He pointed the gun at the girl's head and rested his finger on the trigger.

 _Stop._ The voice in his head was back. _You are not a monster_.

"If you're my conscience, you're kind of a bitch," Dipper complained to himself.

 _Someone will die_ , the voice snarled. _You will not let that happen._

"I can do what I want. I'm the most powerful. Who can stop me?"

 _No one can stop you. Except for yourself. You are better than this._

Dipper thought about it again. "Maybe I am. Maybe I will be better." He leveled the gun at her again, trying to ignoring the gnawing in his gut. "But not today."

The girl's eyes fluttered open, revealing brilliant green eyes. She giggled, said, "Boop!" and lightly touched his nose with a finger. Dipper stared at her and moved the gun away.

"What."

Then the girl's eyes widened as she woke up, and she screamed and punched him in the face.

Dipper staggered backwards, cupping his hands over his nose and dropping the gun. The girl, still yelling, rolled off of the couch and put her fists up, looking for a fight. She didn't find one.

Dipper held up his hands, now covered with his own blood. "Whoah whoah whoah!" he yelled, his voice nasal. "Whad id it wif beoble hidding my node?!" he complained as he grabbed a tissue from the box nearby and wiped his nose. It wasn't broken, he concurred, but it was probably going to swell up unless he treated it.

He flicked his nose with his finger and grimaced from the pain. Blue powder went up his nostrils, and Dipper detected a scent of Fruit Loops. With a cracking noise, his nose went back to normal size and he could breathe from it again.

"Where the heck am I?!" the girl yelled, looking around frantically. "Where's my cousin?!" She, apparently, had the observational skills of Ford without glasses and hadn't noticed Dipper's magic.

"Relax, Rocky," Dipper told her. "You're in my house."

"How did I get in here?"

"You passed out on my porch. Did you think I was gonna let you stay out there?"

"Yes!"

Dipper decided not to tell her that he was about to. "Look, you said something about your cousin dying?"

Her eyes flashed in terror. "Gideon!"

Dipper wrinkled his nose in distaste. "That little fungus?"

The girl's eyes blazed. "Hey! That's my cousin!"

"Wait wait wait," Dipper halted her, holding up his hands. "Gideon Gleeful? Yea high, blue vest, kinda pudgy, ridiculous hair? _That_ is related to… _that_?" He gestured at the beautiful girl before him.

She crossed her arms defensively. "Do not talk about him like that!" she snapped.

"I'm not wrong!"

"Just because his hair is ridiculous-"

"HAH! You admit it!"

"-does not mean that you can insult him when he's not here to defend himself!"

"Look, Blondie-"

" _Blondie?!_ "

"Oh, let me guess," Dipper mocked sing-songingly. "It's not really blonde, is it?"

" _WHAT DID YOU SAY?!_ " she roared, and Dipper had time to vaguely think _Uh oh_ before she lunged at him. He dodged, and when she reached for his throat, he grabbed her wrists.

"Listen, Blondie," he said harshly, and she stopped and stared at him, wide-eyed. "I can either go with you to help your meatball of a cousin, or I can kick you out right here, and let him die. Which one would you rather happen?"

Blondie wrenched her wrists out of Dipper's grasp and backed up so quickly that she tripped over the couch. Dipper smirked - one that quickly disappeared when she popped back up on the other side, fear in her eyes. "How did you do that?" she asked, trembling.

"Do what?" Dipper was a bit confused.

"With your voice. Like there were a thousand voices."

"Oh. Uh…"

Suddenly, a voice yelled, "What is she doing in here?!" Stan had returned from… wherever he had gone to.

Relieved, Dipper turned to his would-be rescuer and immediately wished that he didn't have eyeballs. "Stan!" he groaned. "Where are your pants, old man?!"

"Hey, I put my nice underpants on!" Stan defended himself. They had purple hearts on them. Combined with his white, stained tank top and fez, he looked like Crazy Lazy Susan, and Dipper told him as much. "That is a fine lady!"

"She's like eighty!"

"I like older women."

" _You're_ eighty! That's not an older woman, that's an old woman the same age!"

"Um, hello?" Blondie waved.

Stan turned. "Hi there. Who are you?"

"My name is-"

"She's a Jehovah's Witness, and she's leaving," Dipper interrupted. "Come on, Blondie."

"Do _not_ call me Blondie," she threatened again. Dipper opened the door for her and gestured her out.

"Dipper, come here for a minute," Stan called. "Quick meeting in the kitchen."

"I'll be right out. Try not to die without me." Blondie stuck her tongue out at him. "What, Stan?"

"Look, kid," Stan said, putting a hand on Dipper's shoulder, "you're a teenager. I get it. You'll be seventeen in, what a month? Two months? As we get older, our bodies go through some awkward phases."

"No." Dipper's eyes widened in alarm. "NO."

"I know that she ain't a Jehovah's Witness because we haven't got any of those around here. All I'm saying is, just be gentle with her."

"She is not my girlfriend! I don't even know her name!"

Stan smiled wistfully. "That's what I said about my first girlfriend. I still never got her name."

"We are not having this conversation. I gotta go into the woods with her-"

"Sounds romantic."

"STAN!"

"Just having some fun, kid." He fished in his pocket and pulled out a key. "You know what this goes to, right?"

Dipper grinned. "Oh yeah. This'll be fun."

Then Stan handed him a little square packet that had the word Trojan on it, and Dipper decided it was time to leave.

He walked out to the front porch and shut the door on Stan, who was cackling with glee, and faced Blondie on the porch. She glared at him. "Okay, _Pines._ How do we save my cousin?"

"How do you know my name?"

"Saw your magic show when I first got here. Your acting was… questionable."

"Ouch," Dipper deadpanned. "Not sure how I'll recover from that one, Blondie. And I have no idea how to save your cousin. How was he injured?"

The girl was clearly trying to not punch him for calling her Blondie. "You wouldn't believe me."

"Bet."

" _Bet._ Tell me what you know."

Dipper smirked. "I know that everyone in this town is strange. I know that they're easy to manipulate. And I know that they have no idea about what's in the woods."

If Blondie was surprised, she didn't show it. "So you know about the wildlife?"

"Know all about it. Fought most of it."

"Me too. I've fought gnomes."

"Manotaurs."

"Vampires."

"Zombies. That I summoned."

"Mermen!"

"Clones!"

"Giants!"

"Werewolves!"

" _Actual_ wolves!"

"The Gobblewonker!"

"Hah!" Blondie whooped. "That doesn't exist! Crazy Susan built a robot!"

Dipper made a mental of the fact that he could feed the girl to the monster. "Fine, Blondie, you win. Point is, I know what's in the woods. What's killing your cousin?"

"Corgon farts," Blondie said. She was probably expecting Dipper to laugh.

Instead, all the color drained from his face. "We need to get to your cousin." He stepped off the porch and made his way to the fence to the backyard. Blondie jumped off and followed him. "So, Blondie-"

"I'll tell you my name if you ask."

"Nope. If I learn your name, that implies that I'll have to deal with you a lot, and I intend to ditch you as soon as possible."

"Feeling's mutual, butthead."

"Wow, you are good. Attacking my insecurities about my butt-shaped head? Just cruel."

The backyard was suspiciously clean. Green grass grew at the perfect height. A trampoline sat in the corner, a layer of dust collecting. It looked like your average backyard, except for one thing.

A dirt bike was propped against the fence. Actually, it wasn't a dirt bike, it was an off-road motorcycle. Red flame decals flew up the sides. The seat and wheels looked shiny and new. It was the pride and joy of Dipper's life. He washed it twice a week and took it out on every day off.

Once, he had asked the dude at the garage on the other side of the Falls about turbo boost, like from racing video games or the _Slow and Mildly Upset_ movies. The guy, who was Latino, about a hundred pounds overweight, and buck toothed chewed his chocolate bar. "I dunno, dude," he had replied. "I mean, maybe. But I can tell you that this bad boy needs an engine change ASAP as possible."

"Ramirez!" the chief engineer yelled from the depths of the garage. "Get your big ass over here and help me get rid of this damn possum!"

The mechanic had tipped his hat sagely. "My talents are needed elsewhere."

"So," Blondie said, bringing him back to the present. "That's a cute bike you've got there."

Dipper bristled. "Do not call my bike 'cute'!"

"With some pink streamers and a little basket on the front, we could make it even better."

Dipper ground his teeth. This girl was very pretty, very athletic, and _very_ annoying.

"Does it have a name?" she asked, and Dipper finally changed the subject.

"Look, just take the helmet and hop on." He handed her Mabel's rarely-used helmet, which was bright pink and sparkly. "Did you bring anything else with you? Weapons or anything?"

"Weapons?" Her eyes were blankly questioning.

"Wait a second. You went into the woods, which you knew were monster-infested, in short-shorts and a tank top, with no weapons?"

"Yup!" she replied cheerfully.

Dipper rubbed his temples. "Shocker. Okay, fine. Just stay close to me when we find your cousin."

"How are we getting there?" Realization dawned. "No, no, no. You can take the bike. I'll walk."

"You are not walking."

"Well, I ain't riding with you! I'm walking, and that's final!"

Five minutes later, Blondie was squeezing her eyes closed with her arms wrapped around Dipper's waist in a vice grip. She squealed as Dipper hit a fallen branch and went airborne.

Dipper would have been grinning, but then bugs would fly in his otherwise perfect teeth. When Blondie has told him that Gideon was in Proinsas Clearing, he was excited. Stan had made a path to there years ago, for reasons he had declined to tell Dipper, but he had always loved that place.

Although he was pretty sure that was where Mabel buried the bodies of people who annoyed her.

He popped a wheelie, and Blondie yelled again and squeezed around his stomach harder. Dipper was enjoying that, too, probably more than he should be.

She's a lot prettier when she's quiet, Dipper had decided.

Something silver flashed behind a tree, and Dipper just had time to duck before an arrow flew over his head and embedded itself in a tree. Dipper swore, and Blondie yelled again, something that sounded like "Language!"

Kids, when you're in the woods and an arrow comes out of nowhere and almost kills you, do not stop. Get away faster. Dipper, however, knew the arrow type and braked. Within seconds, they were surrounded.

"Why'd we stop?" Blondie whispered.

"Slight problem," he explained. "It's a horse."

"It better not be unicorns again," she grumbled as she looked up. Blondie quickly yanked her arms away from his stomach and glared at him. Dipper smirked.

"Not unicorns, but not much better. Keep your helmet on, this might get ugly." With that, Dipper yanked off his helmet and ran a hand through his hair.

"What are those?" Blondie breathed.

"Femtaurs," he responded grimly.

The top half of the monsters were of beautiful women. Their hair was long and wavy, their bodies were tan and muscular, and their faces were goddesses. To Dipper's relief, they had shirts on, which was a new development that Stan had showed them. Athletic tank tops, t-shirts - one Femtaur wore a hoodie that Dipper noted, with some annoyance, was the same as his.

The bottom half was that of mares, well-groomed and sparkling in the sunlight. Their hooves had no horseshoes - they viewed it as a sign of slavery - and their tails were all a beautiful golden color.

One Femtaur stepped up and thumped her golden spear against the ground. "Human Starboy of Gravity Falls," she commanded in a deafening voice. "You are not welcome in these woods."

As he approached certain death, the only thing that Dipper could say was, "Aw, fuck."

 **Finally, I continued writing this shitty-ass fic. Sorry, I've been busy - football season just ended, which means that** **basketball** **, my main sport, is starting. I'll finish the next chapter up ASAP.**


	4. Day Off - Chapter Four - Play With Fire

With a whoosh, the spear flew at Dipper. He ducked, but the spear snagged the hood of his hoodie and pinned it to the tree behind him. Blondie yelped. Dipper didn't. He rolled his eyes like he couldn't care less.

"Femtaur Katie of The Woods," Dipper said formally, then dropping it, "I could not care less." He gave Katie and the rest of the Femtaurs the death glare.

Most living beings, whether they knew of his power of not, would have taken a step or two backwards. Not Katie. She simply glowered down at him. "You do not intimidate me, _boy_."

"I can change that in the blink of an eye," Dipper growled.

Another Femtaur pointed her bow at Dipper's throat. The rest of the Femtaurs followed suit. "You will be dead before you try," Katie threatened.

"You're doing amazing!" Blondie called behind him sarcastically, her voice muffled by the motorcycle helmet.

"Shut up!" Dipper shouted back. "And keep your helmet on!"

"Why?!" she challenged.

"Time out," Dipper told Katie, who frowned.

"Saying 'time out' does you no favors."

"It's an honor system."

"There is no such thing as time outs in executions!"

Dipper nearly let his eyes bug out. _Execution?_ he thought. _Shit._

 _You're fucked now_ , the voice inside his head said.

 _Yeah, no shit. Gonna have to talk fast._

 _Or you could unleash some magic._

He promptly ignored that last selection and said, "Then can this be a last request?"

The Femtaurs huddled up, reminding Dipper of a group of homicidal football players, and then Katie turned to Dipper and nodded with a _harrumph_. "Fine. You get five minutes alone with your friend."

Blondie hurried over. "What the heck did you do to annoy the Femtaurs?"

"Rainbows, riots, Shmebulock, long story. You know the lowdown on these monsters, right?"

"Not really. Are they anything like the Manotaurs?"

"Kind of. These guys' whole thing is making girls give up dudes. You ever heard of the Hunters?"

"The classic rock band from, like, the seventies?"

"What? No. Greek Mythology. Swore to Artemis that they would give up dudes and remain forever young. My theory is that they eventually evolved or mutated or whatever into these things." Behind him, one Femtaur reared up angrily. "Yeah, I know what I said! _Mutated!_ "

"Maybe I should swear off dudes," Blondie pondered.

"Don't!" Dipper blurted out, and then he realized how weird that sounded. "I mean, from what Mabel's told me, it's not worth it."

"How do you know all of this stuff anyway?"

"I know about the history from Percy Jackson - don't give me that look, I used to read a lot - and I know about their methods from personal experience."

"How do you know? Did they think you were a girl, try to train you up in the ways of never having a boyfriend?"

"Hilarious. No, they tried to get Mabel to give up guys. You saw Mabel at the magic show?"

"Yeah, and her tendency to use the chainsaw more than you."

"Yeah, well, she couldn't stand not having a boyfriend for more than three days and got super crabby. I didn't like the new Mabel, and as it turned out, neither did Mabel herself. That reminds me." He turned to Katie and asked, "Did you ever get your village repaired? Last time I checked, that was a lot of fire."

If looks could kill, Dipper would be dust.

"Gonna take that as a no."

"Look, Starboy-"

"Oh god, are you gonna call me that?"

"You call me Blondie, I call you Starboy. Got a problem with that, Starboy?"

"Yeah, I do, but I see your point."

"Look, Starboy, I can handle these guys." She took off her helmet, and blonde hair spilled out.

Katie's eyes widened. "It's her!" The Femtaurs knelt reverently, Katie included.

"What the fuck." Dipper couldn't believe it, but refused to let his surprise show and give Blondie the satisfaction.

"All hail Queen Pacifica Northwest of Gravity Falls!" the crowd chanted. Katie pointed her spear at Dipper again.

"Shall I kill this trespasser?" she asked, as casually as if she was asking for homework answers.

Blondie pondered it. "Hmm. No, I don't think so. He's my way out of the woods. Thanks though!"

"Of course, my queen. Is there anything we can do for you?" Katie asked. "Can we at least maim him a bit?"

"Wow, these guys do NOT like you, Starboy. No, Katie, not yet."

"I see," Katie said, disappointed. She yanked the spear out of his hood. Dipper tumbled to the ground, free at last.

With a whinny, two Femtaurs popped the tires of his bike. His eye twitched, but he remained stone-faced.

"That will be you if you step foot in this forest without Queen Pacifica, Starboy," Katie warned. "My Queen, I fear we must go. There was a distress call from the chipmunks, apparently they're at war with the gnomes again-"

"Yeesh, _again?_ Alright, dismissed. Feel free to kill Starboy next time!"

They knelt again, and like a whisper in the night, they were gone. Dipper raised a finger after them, then turned to Blondie and said, "There is no fucking way your real name is 'Pacifica Northwest'."

"That's your first comment?"

"I mean, seriously. Did your parents hate you, or were they just hippies? Or both?"

"My aunt and uncle are hippies, yeah, but they love me!"

"That would explain so much. The sweater, the hair, the way you smell like nice flowers-"

"What was that last one?"

"The way you look like you got run over by a dump truck."

"At least my nickname isn't Starboy. How'd you get _that_ name?"

Dipper lifted up his bangs, and revealed his birthmark. "Because of these bad boys. Technically, they've given me two nicknames, Starboy and Dipper."

Pacifica raised an eyebrow. "Your real name must be horrible if you'd rather go by the nickname _Dipper_."

"At least it's not Pacifica Northwest. I mean, are you at least from the Northwest?"

"Florida."

"Let me get this straight, your name is Pacifica Northwest, you don't actually live in the Northwest, your relatives are hippies, _and_ you're from Florida? That's, like, a Batman-level tragic backstory."

"Yeah, I know. What about your motorcycle?"

Dipper walked over to it and felt the hole. He was annoyed, yeah, but this wasn't the first time that they had shot holes into his bike. "Wheels are fine. Axles are still in shape. Just a bit of popping." He turned the key. It sputtered, then died. "Shit."

"Let me take a look," Pacifica offered. "My uncle taught me a few things." She walked over and started checking it out. With a thunk, she smacked the hood.

Dipper hissed. "Don't just hit it!"

"What, like this?" Thunk.

"Will you quit it?!"

"So you're fine with wheels getting popped, but as soon as someone touches it, you flip?"

"Wheels can be replaced in minutes. It takes hours to get dirt off the paint job."

"Well, either way, I got my answer. Engine's overheated."

"No way. I just checked before we left."

"We'll have to let it cool down for a while. Guess we're walking."

"Fine. But I don't do small talk," Dipper warned.

"Why on earth would I want to do small talk with you?"

And so they set off, Dipper mentally marking the location of the bike. They lasted five minutes before Pacifica started talking.

"So how long have you had the bike?"

"I thought you didn't want to 'small talk' me."

"I don't, but I figured I'd probably die of boredom."

"I've been driving since I was twelve."

"Your parents let you do that?"

"Uncles. They figured, 'Hey, as long as he's not killing anyone'."

Superficial small talk, that's all it was, he told himself. She can't use it against me later.

"Have you killed anyone?"

"I'm legally required to answer no."

She snorted. It was a cute snort. "So how good are you with the bike?"

"You know how pros brake by turning their bike ninety degrees and skidding horizontally?"

"Yeah, the Kaneda brake."

"I've been able to do that since I was thirteen."

"Impressive. What made you decide to be a biker bad-boy?"

That question was a little too personal. "How long have you been a mechanic?" Dipper asked, turning the conversation towards her.

"Since about a month ago. My uncle said that if he was gonna take care of me, he was gonna put me to work."

"So you're a regular Winry Rockbell." Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shitfuck. Why had he said that? Dipper was about to search for the nearest cliff to throw himself over when she responded.

"Well, if we're talking Fullmetal Alchemist, that would make you, what, Roy Mustang?"

"Where'd you get that assumption?"

"You don't show emotion unless you're pissed off."

"Well, you're closer than you think. Huh. I guess I am Mustang."

"You certainly are full of surprises."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when I knocked at your door-"

"Passed out at my door."

"Yeah, that. I wasn't expecting to find that you were a motorcyclist that watches Fullmetal Alchemist and Duct-tective. I wasn't expecting you to actually help me find my cousin. And I definitely wasn't expecting you to help me find him wearing a pink sweater that says GFU on it."

"It's a fashion statement."

"It certainly is. What's it stand for?"

"Gravity Falls University. Where I want to go when I graduate." Dipper hoped that she would drop the subject.

"You say 'want to go' like you can't go. Why not?" She cocked her head quizzically.

He looked away. She was super hot when she did that. "It's personal."

"How personal?"

"Very personal."

"How personal is very personal?"

Super hot and super annoying. "Jesus Christ, Blondie."

"Sorry. I just want to know."

They walked in silence for a while. Then she spoke up again. "I might take a tour there when we get done here."

"Good for you. Now please stop talking."

"You don't have to be such a jerk. I'm just trying to make conversation."

"Normally, I'm against conversation because I'm an asshole, but around here, we do have to be quiet."

"Why?"

 _Clatter-clatter-click_.

Pacifica froze. "What the heck was that?"

"Hide-behind," Dipper said lowly. "It knows we're here."

Pacifica took in a deep breath. "I heard it earlier today, when me and my friends and Robbie-"

"Valentino?"

"That's the one. We were walking to the Big Clearing-"

"The Big Clearing? Oh, you mean Proinsas Clearing."

"That's a dumb name."

"So is Pacifica Northwest."

"Shut up, Starboy."

"Would you rather me call you Blondie?" He was starting to enjoy baiting her. "That wouldn't be an accurate name, though. It's not real blonde, is it?"

Her eyes went dark. Dipper had time to think, _Oh shit_ , before she lunged at him with a flying punch. He ducked, laughing. She didn't see the humor and lunged again. Pacifica landed a punch on his arm. It was kind of a sad punch, to be honest, but he played it up. "I'M WOUNDED!" Dipper screeched, swooning around. "I MIGHT NEVER USE THIS ARM AGAIN!"

"TELL ME THAT MY HAIR IS FAKE BLONDE ONE MORE TIME!" Pacifica hollered at him.

"YOUR HAIR IS FAKE BLONDE!"

She gave a kung-fu yell and went for a flying kick. Dipper caught her foot and swung her gently to the ground. He clapped his hands together and bowed. "Round one, Dipper," he said in a deep baritone.

"God, you're a nerd," she sneered as she got up.

Dipper made a mental note to himself. It wasn't much fun making _nice_ small-talk, but it wasn't much fun being a dick just for her to flip out this badly. It was like they both spoke English, but with different accents. If he wanted to have a normal conversation with her, they needed a happy medium. Suddenly, he heard a noise. "Did you hear that?" Dipper said, snapping to attention.

"What, did you hear the sound of imminent defeat?"

 _Clatter-clatter-click_.

"Uh oh."

"Yeah. Okay, on the count of three, we bail. One-" With a whoosh, he was off.

Pacifica caught up to him easily. "Are you trying to feed me to that thing?"

"...no?" he managed to snark, winded. When they stopped running about a mile later, he put his hands on his knees and tried to not throw up. "I have never run that hard ever," he wheezed.

Pacifica wasn't even winded. "You would die in track season."

"Shut up."

"I mean it. Dead meat walking." She grinned cockily.

Dipper decided that he liked arguing with her more than talking regularly. "I'd do fine."

"Sure."

"Really."

"I have no doubts." She doubted heavily. "How far away are we?"

"About ten feet," Dipper told her, jerking his head to the right. True enough, they had arrived to the edge of the clearing. There was a lump in the middle of it. Dipper saw two people on the other side. One was a bigger girl who was pacing around nervously, and the other sat on a rock. "Is that Robbie?" he asked.

"Yup," she answered.

"Is he checking his phone?"

"Yup," she answered, sounding angrier.

"Okay, the Corgon is in the middle." The lump moved. "Holy shit, you didn't it was this big. We'll just sidle around the side. Slowly."

Pacifica nodded, and fifteen minutes later, they were picking themselves free of branches next to the girl. She stifled a yelp and hugged Pacifica. "Oh my god, you're okay!"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Melody. And I brought help."

The girl named Melody looked at Dipper, who jerked his head up in a "sup" nod. Her motherly look turned into a glare. " _You_."

"Me. Have we met?"

"Your stupid magic show put my parents out of their toy shop business." Her eyes were daggers.

Dipper shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry. I, uh. I didn't know."

Robbie looked up, looking unsurprised. "Hey, Dipper." He went right back to his phone. Pacifica rolled her eyes, but Melody didn't take her eyes off of Dipper.

"Paz, you couldn't have asked anyone else for help?"

Pacifica rolled her eyes. "Okay, you two, we have bigger issues. You said you could heal Gideon?"

"I can, but on one condition," Dipper said, attempting to ignore both the ice from Melody's glare and the growing pit of guilt in his stomach. "I don't want any questions about how."

"Oh my god, it's some sort of perverted healing," Pacifica deadpanned.

Melody raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you say 'oh my god'? Has he corrupted you that much?"

"She tried to kill me," Dipper offered.

"You deserved it," Pacifica shot back.

Dipper was about to start arguing back, but Melody snapped "Less talky, more healy!"

"Fine. No questions. Save autographs until after, please." Dipper knelt by the white-haired boy. He put one hand on Gideon's head, the other on his rather large stomach. He closed his eyes, and concentrated. When Dipper felt the energy release, he opened his eyes. Sure enough, sparks were flooding down Gideon's body.

Gideon suddenly farted, moaned peacefully, and turned over in his sleep. "He's fixed," Dipper announced, covering his nose with the front of his hoodie. "He might be a bit gassy."

"What was that?" Pacifica breathed. Melody squinted at him.

"That was magic, wasn't it." It wasn't a question.

Dipper ignored her. "Okay, he seems pretty heavy, so we'll have to have two people carry him. Me and Blondie over here are the strongest, so we'll lift."

Pacifica didn't stop gaping at him. He shrugged, basking in the confused awe. That was Dipper's favorite reaction to his magic tricks on the stage. It felt nice to get that reaction from his real magic.

"What, you've never seen that before?" he bragged. "There's a lot more where that came from?"

"Prove it," she challenged. Dipper grinned, and his eyes turned bluer than the deepest ocean. From under his hoodie and t-shirt, his shoulder glowed.

And Robbie chose that moment to accidentally let his phone ring.

" _FEW TIMES I BEEN ROUND THAT TRACK SO ITS NOT JUST GONNA HAPPEN LIKE THAT CAUSE I AIN'T NO HOLLABACK GIRL!_ " it warbled through the forest.

Ten miles away, a Femtaur cocked her ear and grimaced. The tune had been called the Melody of Pestilence by her ancestors. She preferred that one over the Melody of War ("Baby" by Justin Bieber), the Melody of Famine ("Bring Me Back To Life" by Evanescence) or, worst of all, the Melody of Death ("Africa" by Toto).

Twenty miles away, a Manotaur cocked his ear and cheered as he heard the mating song. He always wondered why the Femtaurs seemed so averse to it. It was orgasmically good music to his ears.

Fifteen feet away, the two-ton lump of fuzz pointed its nose straight at Robbie. "Aw, man," he had time to groan, and then the Corgon charged.

"MOVE!" Dipper yelled, and he tackled Robbie out of the way of the rampaging beast. "Get Gideon out of here!" he commanded Robbie, and then turned to Pacifica, a grim smirk on his face. "You wanted to see some magic? Well, now you'll see why they call me the apex."

He faced down the Corgon in the center of the field. Distracted, it turned away from Melody and Robbie as they picked a happily snoozing Gideon up and hoofed it away from the fight. Pacifica watched in shock.

She watched as Dipper walked calmly forward. She watched as a spot on his right shoulder started glowing. And she watched as his hoodie and t-shirt underneath burned straight off. His torso ignited, wreathed in blue flames. His eyes glowed a powerful, electric blue. The stars on his forehead beamed. He looked like a god, back from hell itself.

And then he punched a giant puppy that farts rainbows in the face.

The Corgon whimpered and retreated. It set its sights on Pacifica, and decided that it seemed like a better bet to try to eat someone standing still. She was still frozen and shock. She had no time to move.

Suddenly, the Corgon stopped in its tracks, then flew to the other side of the clearing. Dipper had grabbed it by the tail and flung it. Pacifica got a nice view of his back, rippling with muscles. On the right shoulder was a tattoo. It seemed to be a triangle surrounded by various circles. It almost looked like-

Pacifica's heart ran cold. When she had vacationed up in Salem in the third grade, there had been a witch's museum with that exact shape on it. The diagram said it was a summoning spell, used to conjure demons.

But what had been conjured?

Dipper roared and punched the Corgon again, cowing it. He grabbed it by the neck and suplexed it to the ground. It hopped back up immediately and lunged at him with a roar of its own. Its claws sliced Dipper's chest to ribbons. If he noticed, he didn't react.

"Dipper!" Pacifica yelled, worried. She looked around frantically and grabbed the nearest tree branch. She broke it off with a loud snap and smacked the Corgon's back with it. It promptly shattered apart. Instantly, Dipper sidled between the Corgon and Pacifica, flaming fists raised and ready to fight.

 _God, he's hot,_ she thought to herself. She meant that in both ways. Her face felt like it was being seared off. _Does he even notice this?_

Dipper looked powerful, in control. His chest, however, was bleeding rather badly. He was beginning to wear out.

He knew that he couldn't keep it up for much longer. "Pacifica, get out of here!" he tried to tell her, but she refused. Silently, she stood next to him, raising her fists in an imitation of him. "Thumbs outside the fist, not inside!"

They were going to fuckin' die.

With a snarl, the Corgon leaped on them, but never touched ground again. It whimpered in fear, but not pain, as it slowly… slowly…

What the hell was it doing?

"It's disintegrating?" Pacifica asked, not dropping her pathetic stance. Dipper dropped his. "Are you that powerful?"

"No, only one person is," he answered, his expression doing the equivalent of facepalming. "My sister."

Sure enough, floating above them was a girl that seemed to be Paz's and Dipper's age. The last time Pacifica saw her, she was on a stage sawing a volunteer in half with a chainsaw. The demented grin on her face didn't set Pacifica at ease for her rescuer.

She touched down and strode up to Dipper. "Why are you out here, Dipshit?"

He looked away. "I was helping."

"Since when do you help with anything?"

"Since about three hours ago."

"Why is your bike in the woods with both of its tires popped?"

"Femtaurs."

"Who are these people?"

"Pacifica, Gideon, Melody, and Robbie."

"Why are you out here really?"

"Told you. Healing."

Pacifica watched intensely. They weren't even finishing their sentences before the other was talking. It was the world's most intense tennis match.

Suddenly, on the other side of the field, Gideon sat straight up. He and Mabel made eye contact, and Dipper knew it was all over.

"Oh my god," Gideon breathed. He had never seen someone so beautiful, someone so powerful. He was in love instantly.

"Oh my god," Mabel murmured. She had never seen such a gentle, kind soul. She was in love instantly.

"Oh my god," Pacifica squealed softly. She had never seen two people fall in love so quickly. She was in love with the pairing instantly.

"Oh, fuck this," Dipper said flatly.

Mabel flew across to where Melody and Robbie carried Gideon, and they set him down. He was steadier on his feet than he was a few minutes ago. "Hi there," he greeted.

"Hello," she said.

"Oh my god, is she blushing?" Dipper whispered to Pacifica.

"I think so. Is that not normal?"

"No! Her two states of mind are either 'rage' or 'being a dick'!"

As the two commented on the burgeoning relationship, Melody watched the pair of pairs. She knew Mabel, but was more than a little scared of her, so she said nothing. She did _not_ like what was going on with Dipper and Pacifica, on the other hand.

"Hey!" she said loudly, cupping her hands around her mouth. Gideon and Mabel stopped drooling over each other, and Dipper and Pacifica stopped cracking jokes to look at her. "I'm definitely thankful for you two for saving us, but we kinda need to get home."

Mabel blinked. "Oh. Right!" She waved her hand, her eyes glowed blue, and a shimmering portal appeared. On the other side was Big Blue. "Everybody in!" Dutifully, Robbie and Melody walked in. Pacifica followed, Gideon trailing behind, shooting glances at Mabel, who waved back.

Dipper walked over to Mabel. "You know that he'll be farting rainbows for a while. Kinda ruins the romance, huh?"

"Only for a bit," she said dreamily. "How about you and the blonde girl?"

"What? No," he denied instantly. "There's nothing. We hate each other."

"I can tell by the hearts in both of your eyes."

"Shut up."

 _Clatter-clatter-click._

Fifteen seconds later, the six of them stood on the front lawn of the house, bathed in the glow of the setting sun. Stan opened the door, raised an eyebrow, and promptly slammed it, yelling, "NO SOLICITORS!"

"Gideon," Melody called, dragging his attention away from Mabel. "Are you feeling better?"

"I am now," he replied happily.

"Okay, good, because I need to get home. I've got a date, and I need to get ready."

Robbie had already left, saying, "Later."

"Does he even care?" Dipper asked Pacifica as Melody and Robbie walked away. "I mean, he just went face-to-face with a giant Corgi. No reaction?"

She was staring intently at his back. "He's lived here since he was born. I'm sure he's just used to it by now."

"Maybe."

The two stood awkwardly for a bit, both attempting to ignore Mabel and Gideon hitting it off. "Well, um," Dipper started awkwardly, but Pacifica cut him off.

"Look, I appreciate you helping him, really," Pacifica told him. "But you need to stay away from us."

Dipper blinked in surprise. "Didn't expect that."

Pacifica looked almost apologetic, but she kept going on. "This is the closest we've ever come to dying. I don't know if Gid will be alright. I know that he's scared of you. He's been scared of you since I came here."

"He should be."

"I don't know what the history there is, but I saw the fear in his eyes when he came to and saw you. You've been nice to me, and I appreciate that. But I need you to stay away."

Dipper was suddenly furious. "I just saved your ass, and THIS is the thanks I get?!"

"Oh, don't give me that," she snapped back. "We would have handled it, just differently."

"Alright, fine! Get off my property, before I come after Gideon!"

"Stay away from my cousin!" Pacifica poked him in the chest. Her eyes were aflame, much like his. She turned on her heel. "Gideon!"

He snapped to attention. "Are we going?"

"Yes! Right now!" Pacifica shook Mabel's hand. "Pacifica Northwest, nice to meet you." She stomped off, Gideon following close behind.

Mabel looked at him. "What the hell did you do?"

Dipper was honestly confused. "I don't know! Apparently, I'm a bully to her cousin or something."

"Well, you might have lost me a potential boyfriend, and you definitely lost yourself a girlfriend."

"She is not my-"

"Don't give me that shit! I saw you two. That's the most emotion I've heard you express since the accid-"

"Don't talk about it! Just don't." Dipper was burning out. He felt tired and sore. "That's the last time I'll ever see her, anyway. Didn't even get to a happy medium of conversation."

"Now go put a shirt on," Mabel instructed, "before she comes back and spontaneously combusts."

"What are you talking about?"

"I saw her! She was eating you alive with her eyes, Dipshit."

"She was not eating me alive with her eyes!"

"I was not eating him alive with my eyes!"

"That's a lie and you know it, Paz."

The sun had set, and Gideon and Pacifica were sitting in the living room, watching Duck-tective. Gideon was banding his wound.

"It was obvious."

"Shut up! I broke it off for your sake!"

"No you didn't, Paz." Gideon had his mind-reader voice activated. "You broke it off because you didn't want another John!"

Pacifica's blood boiled. "Do not talk about him."

"Dipper scares me, really, he does, but I can handle him. You're the one who couldn't."

Pacifica changed the subject. "So you and Mabel, huh?"

Gideon, normally bashful about these subjects, grinned. "Yup."

"When's the first date?"

"I haven't gotten around to making one yet, but I'm close." He held up his hand. A phone number was written on it. "Look, Pacifica, if you're gonna make a move on him, act fast."

"Why?"

"I've got the rest of my life to woo Mabel. You've got two months to woo Dipper."

"I am not wooing him!"

"You said you're past John. Prove it."

Pacifica decided it was time to turn in. "Good night," she said icily, and went up the stairs.

"When's the first date?!" Gideon yelled after her. She slammed the door in reply and flopped on the bed. _I do not like him,_ she told herself. Pacifica told herself that until she went to sleep.

Dipper rolled into bed, exhausted and bleeding. Will was downstairs preparing coffee for the next morning. "Back to work I go," he muttered, then his mind flipped.

Pacifica's blazing eyes were dangerous, impulsive. Beautiful. He realized that he liked arguing with her, but there was a middle ground between "normal conversation" and "argument to the death".

"Happy medium," he told himself. "Happy medium. Oh, who am I kidding? I do not like her!" Dipper told himself that until he went to sleep.

Across town, at the Ace of Clubs Grill, Melody slid into her seat, groaning. Her back was aching both from work and from today's adventure. "Hi there," she said. "Sorry I'm late."

Her date grinned. His cap sat a bit crooked, and his shirt was a bit stained with motor oil. He was still a sight for sore eyes.

The first thing he said was, "Sup, dawg?"

 **Proofreading? Where we're going, we don't need proofreading! Holy Jesus, it felt good to write a bit. Merry Christmas to all. In case you're wondering, this is the last scene of the first act. Expect an interlude soon. Don't worry, Soos will return.**


	5. Interlude One - Text of Love and Rivalry

**6:54 pm**

Hey there

 _Hey yourself!_

What's up

 _Not much, what's up with you?_

Not a whole lot

Youve got good grammar

 _Thanks. I've always wanted to be an author. At this point, it's a habit._

Oooh an author! What kind

 _Writing about paranormal stuff. Ghosts and monsters. They've always interested me._

That makes sense seeing as you fight them on a daily basis

 _Write what you fight, that's my motto. It even rhymes!_

Your a poet

 _Not what I was expecting to be, but there's worse things to be._

Like what

 _A stage magician._

Fighting words

 _What's it like? I mean, you must be busy all the time._

Its actually a lot of fun

Like i get to saw Dipshit in half once a week so thats cathartic

 _I bet. So do you two not get along?_

We argue a lot but other than that we do fine

Hes usually mad that i beat him whenever we spar

And whenever we play sports

And whenever we have to talk to people in a way that doesn't involve staring threateningly at them

He gets mad a lot

 _Yeah, he doesn't have much in the way of physical talent, huh?_

Dont tell him that or he'll rip your lungs out

Hes still more athletic than most people

I'm just more awesome

 _What I don't get is how you could create portals and fly and all that cool stuff._

Sorry but I made a rule to not put out until the third date

 _WHAT?!_ _No, not like that-_

Put out information

What did you think I was talking about

 _...nothin._

So how are you and your cousin

Her name was pacifica right

 _Yeah. You and her would get along. You're both energetic, and you're both athletic enough to kick me and Dipper's collective butts._

Yeah but there is one thing different

 _Like what?_

I am not clearly head over pink sweater in love with Dipshit

 _Yeah, she's really bad at hiding it._

I mean WOW

I don't get why she snapped like that tho

Is she against love

 _Um, well. Paz has had a… rough life. Her last boyfriend broke her heart and her… it's not my place to explain it. She's just a little on edge._

That explains a bit

So hear me out

You and me

Seven o clock on Thursday

Ace of Clubs Bar and Grill

 _Oh_

 _Oh my god_

Wow Gideon

All it takes is for a girl to ask you out and your perfect grammar goes out the window huh

 _I mean yes! I will definitely go out with you!_

Cool so its settled

See you then

I have to go, Dipper is yelling for my name

 _?_

Don't worry hell be yelling Pacifica's name soon enough

 _I don't want to have those images of my cousin!_

Ha ha sorry

He wants me to help him get his bike out of the forest

Talk to you later

 _See you soon!_

 **11:36 pm**

 _Oh, I almost forgot._

It is ass o clock at night what could you possibly forget

 _I just wanted to thank you and Dipper. Without you two, I would be dead._

 _From rainbow farts._

Don't mention it

Besides we couldn't let you die from that embarrasing of a way

 _Night._

night


	6. Interlude One - After The Falls

"So this is how the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a-"

"GROOOOOAN."

"Yeah, that."

"THIS IS NOT THE TIME!"

Dip slammed his back against the door, straining with effort. "This is the perfect time!" he snapped at Gid. "When else am I going to quote shit like that?"

"WE DO NOT HAVE TIME TO BE HAVING THIS ARGUMENT!" Gid shrieked in reply. As if on cue, the thing on the other side of the door tried to break through. Dip held his ground.

"Gid," he grunted through gritted teeth, "find a barricade or something."

The already-pale boy's face went to the color of expired mayonnaise and nodded. He scrambled away, pushing over a desk. Dip quickly grabbed it and set it against the door.

Both of the boys collapsed on the other side of the desk, sliding down. Dip checked his pistol. Two shots left. Gid's look of despair told him that he was out.

The banging on the other side of the barricade grew louder.

Dip did a quick inventory check. Lighter? Check. Knife? Check. Rations and first-aid kit? Check. Can-do attitude? Eh, three for four ain't bad.

"Tell me," Dip groaned, "you at least got the guff."

Gid grinned wearily and held out the test tube. "I snagged it when you were bashing one's head in with a baseball bat."

"Good." Dip felt a bit of pride in his friend's success. When the outbreak hit two years ago, Gid thought that stakes were used to put down the creatures. Not the wooden kind, either - Dip had found him covered in a meat suit like a cheap Lady Gaga knockoff. Dip had taken pity and brought him back to the other survivors.

Now he was a survivor. Barely.

The banging grew louder.

They had come to Gravity Falls Elementary School because apparently, someone left a cache of weapons. That had proved false, but there was a flask of repellant, which was always useful. They needed to get themselves back to the camp to properly utilize it, but they were slightly sidetracked by the fact that a zom had tried to eat Gid's brains. Had it not been for his enormous hair, it would have succeeded.

"Gid," he said, "stat check."

"No bullets, one flare, one guffa zom repel, and a machete," he replied.

"We're fucked, aren't we." It wasn't a question.

"Yup."

The banging stopped. Dip looked at the door, then at Gid, who shrugged.

 _Knock knock-knock-knock knock. Knock knock._ "Hello?!" a voice called. "Anyone home?"

"She doesn't sound like a zom," Gid said. "Should we let her in?"

Dip responded by moving the desk out of the way and opening the door a crack. He peered out and saw _her_.

She was dressed in what looked like a camouflage sweater. Her cargo pants and combat boots were blood-and-mud-stained. Her blond hair was tied back, and she wore a sixty-megawatt grin on her face.

Dipper opened the door, and she bounced into their lives.

"Oh thank god, I found someone!" she said cheerfully. "Pacifica Northwest, nice to meetcha. Who are you guys?"

"I'm Gid."

"Dip."

"Ooh, are those codenames?"

Dip looked at Gid in disbelief. "How long do you think she's been out there?"

"Two years," she replied, never losing tone. "Where are you two heading?"

"We're trying to go back to our home base, but we're surrounded," Gid told her. Dip nudged him. As much as he had progressed in two years, he was still a bit dumb. "What?"

"You just gonna give away our location to anyone who asks for it?"

They both looked at Pacifica. She was currently looking in the mirror on the other side of the classroom and having a staring contest with the reflection. "I think we're safe," Gid snarked.

"So what happened to the zom? Did it leave?" Dip asked her.

She grinned mischievously. "Something like that." She walked into the hallway and tossed something back in. Gid caught it, yelped, and dropped it.

Dip peered at it. It was a decapitated head, cleanly separated at the neck level. "Nice one. What'd you cut it off with?"

Pacifica pulled a double-headed axe out of her sweater. "This bad boy."

Dip quirked an eyebrow up. "You keep that in your sweater? How do you not impale yourself?"

"Good question!" she answered cheerfully, and then never brought the question up again.

"Is that what I think it is?" Gid said, cowering and pointing at the head.

Pacifica and Dip sideyed each other, then Gid. "What exactly do you _think_ it is?" Pacifica asked in the tone of someone asking a three-year-old to do a math problem.

"The head of my old science teacher."

"Just think of it as a, I dunno, bowling ball," Dip suggested.

"I think that Bowling Night just got a lot more interesting," Pacifica cracked. Gid responded by throwing up. "He's a bit soft."

"Yeah," Dip said, almost apologetically. "Normally, I have another person with me, Wen. She's a total badass, but she's injured, so I figured I'd bring him along."

"GROOOOOAN."

"Was that you?" Pacifica asked.

Dip rolled his eyes at her. "No, but it's close. We better get going. Come on, we'll take you to our place."

With that, he grabbed Gid by the collar and walked out the door. Pacifica followed, bouncing happily. Dip walked through hallways until he found the front entrance and discovered that it was completely flooded with zoms.

"ABOUT FACE!" Dip yelped, and they turned tail and ran. The zoms followed, whooping and snarling. They ran up the staircase and hid in a closet. A flick of the lights revealed a ladder to the roof. Gid went up first, dry-heaving the entire way up. Pacifica went next. The zoms had bashed the door open and were crawling in when Dip bolted up the ladder.

Pacifica slammed the trap door shut and the three of them sighed with relief. Relief that was quickly lost when, in the falling evening sun's glow, a single zom attacked.

Dip dodged right, Gid went left, both yelping. Pacifica flipped backwards nimbly. The zom swung for her and missed, but the axe tumbled out of her sweater.

Dip reached for his knife and pistol, but came up empty. "Fuck," he swore, "I left them in the science room!" He loosened out his arms and held them up. "Old-fashioned way it is."

The zom had cornered Pacifica on a corner of the roof. It was a three-story drop. The look on Pacifica's face screamed that she had no desire to take the express elevator downwards.

Dip charged forward, but Gid was faster. With an unmanly shriek, he leapt onto the zom's back and forced it away from her. It managed to shake him off, but Dip punched it across the rotting skull, and it backed toward the edge of the roof, stunned. With an Amazonian yell, she delivered a mighty dropkick, and the zom toppled over the edge of the roof. The trio looked over the ledge, and discovered that the entire school was surrounded by zoms.

"Guess we're spending the night," Dip said flatly.

With a bang and a whoosh, the flare flew into the night sky, a comet of orange and red. Dip blew on the smoking barrel of the flare gun and hoped that the scene had looked as badass as it felt. He walked back over the roof fire, where Pacifica and Gid were already squatted, warming their hands.

None of them had spoken much after the zom battle. Gid was obviously proud of himself, and Dip was proud of him too. Pacifica was contemplating.

"So Pacifica," Dip said, finally breaking the silence. "You're okay to come with us to our base? It's a motel in town."

Pacifica grinned, apparently back to her chipper self. "That sounds good. It'll finally be nice to be with people that don't want my brains. The motel's safe, right?"

"Yeah," Dip replied. "It's got fences, steel doors, gun safes, a refrigerator in every room, and it's got a pool."

"Well, I can't say no to a pool."

A groaning sounds disrupted the conversation. Gid had fallen asleep, a blissful smile on his face.

"So Gid. Short for Gideon?"

"Right."

"Is he the brainiac of the surviving group?"

"Pfft. He was a genius before the Zompocalypse, but as it turns out, knowing about the Pythagorean Theorem isn't super useful when your teachers want to eat you."

"Who knew?" Pacifica said, smiling. Dip grinned, then decided to ask his own question.

"So you've been by yourself for two years?"

"Not exactly. My pig, Waddles, was with me for a while."

"Your only company was a pig? When did it die?"

"Last week." She sounded a bit teary-eyed, so Dip decided not to tease her about it. "I loved that pig, but it tasted pretty good."

Dip couldn't help but let a short snort out. She whipped around on him. "Don't laugh! I did what I had to to survive!"

Dip was starting to laugh now. "No, no, I respect that. It's just… that last sentence pushed it from tearjerking to dead baby comedy."

"Dead baby comedy?"

"Yeah, you know. Dark stuff. Like, what's worse than twenty dead babies in one trash can?"

"Oh god."

"One dead baby in twenty trash cans."

Pacifica was silent for a moment. "That's… disgusting. That's… hilarious." She laughed a bit. Dip joined her. It felt pretty good.

"So what's Dip short for? Dipstick?"

"Hah. No, it's short for Dipper."

"Wow."

"Don't give me that! Your name is Pacifica."

"Yeah, but my parents were hippies. What's your excuse?"

"My real name is worse."

"It can't be that bad."

"It is."

"Tell me or I'll wake Gid up."

"He's grumpy when he wakes up."

"Then tell me! Don't leave me in suspense."

"...Mason."

Pacifica was quiet for a moment. "Are you kidding me? That name is awesome!"

"Not really."

"I mean, with that three-letter-name system you've got going on, you could be called Mas." She pronounced it like _mace_. "That's awesome! What's up with the short names anyway?"

Dip shrugged. "It saves time. My grunkle always taught me that time is money. In this case, I guess that time is living."

"Your grunkle?"

"Great-uncle."

"You had family before the End?"

Dip was quiet for a second. "Yeah. Two grunkles and a sister."

"I'm sorry."

"Eh. One of my grunkles caused the entire fuckin' apocalypse, so."

"How?"

"I don't even know. He was a scientist. Kind of a prick. You have any family?"

"No. Just a girl and her pig."

They were quiet for a while.

"The rescue party will be here by morning, right?"

"Should be."

"So one sleepover on top of a school. There are worse places to sleep."

"Like where?"

"I spent the night in a fridge once."

"Sounds cold."

"It was. Woke up with an icicle in my hair and a zom banging on the door."

Dip noted that she sounded calmer now. Her voice was soft and her tone was gentle. He wondered if he sounded any different than he had this afternoon.

There was only one blanket left. Dip handed it to Pacifica and curled up next to the dying fire. He watched as she curled up underneath it.

"Night, Mas," she called over.

"Night, Paz," he replied.

"Paz?" she asked, confused, but he was already out. "Paz," she whispered to herself. "I like it. Paz…"

Pacifica fell asleep with the name on her lips.


	7. Interlude One - Dreamweaver

**Okay, so, apologies for making a vaguely-schizophrenic story at 3 in the morning. Consider it an example of why you should never write at that time on the night of your first day back to school after Christmas break. Sorry again.**

 **This particular section is super NSFW and explicit. If it gets me banned (can FanFiction ban me? I don't know enough of the rules yet), just know that it was worth it and it's also on AO3.**

 **Enjoy.**

"Gideooooooon," Pacifica whined. "I'm bored."

"That sounds like a personal problem," Gideon's disinterested voice echoed from across the room, under a lump of sheets. The lamp was on, and he was writing in the Journal.

"There's no monsters to fight? Nothing?"

Gideon coughed, and a little puff of rainbow-colored dust flew out. He grimaced. "Give it a rest. It's been two days since the Corgon."

"But it's been a boring two days! All I do is fix cars, fix cars, fix cars."

"You're getting paid to fix cars, though, aren't you?"

"What? No. Are you?"

"No."

"Does this mean that we can call it slave labor? Can we legally sue for that?"

"We are not suing my dad."

"...well, now I'm REALLY bored."

Gideon groaned. It was gonna be a long night. He got up to get himself some hot chocolate.

"Bring me some!" Pacifica called after him. "With extra sugar!"

"No one puts sugar in their hot chocolate!" Gideon yelled over his shoulder. "My phone's buzzing, I'll be back up soon."

Pacifica covered her face with a pillow. She didn't feel like getting up. She mentally went over the monsters she had fought - unicorns, werewolves, werebears, wereturtles (THAT was a fun day at the lake)...

On the thought of the lake, she forced herself to get up to take a shower. Pacifica stripped down and turned the knob. As she sat on the counter, naked, waiting for the water to warm up, the doorbell rang. Then rang again. "Gideon! Door!" Pacifica yelled down. No reply. "Don't make me get it myself!" Still nothing. Pacifica rolled her eyes and wrapped a bathrobe around her form. She turned the shower off, then walked down to the kitchen. With a look around, she noticed that there was no sign of Gideon. "That's weird," she said to herself, and then walked over to the door.

She threw it open, and Pacifica caught her breath when she saw who was on the other side.

Dipper Pines.

Their eyes scanned each other up and down. He wore a simple, red, button-down flannel shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A simple pair of blue jeans adorned his legs, and on his feet were a pair of black basketball shoes. His hair was freshly washed, combed back to reveal his birthmark. His blue eyes shone mischievously in the moonlight. He smelled good. He looked even better.

And Pacifica was standing before him in a bathrobe.

She attempted to cover herself up a bit more as he began their conversation with a genial, "Hey there."

"Uh, hi," she replied a bit lamely. She looked around behind him and saw no one else. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, you can, actually," he said, scratching at the back of his head awkwardly. "It would seem that my sister is missing. Any chance that she'd be gallivanting around with your cousin?"

"That seems very likely," Pacifica sighed. "Hold on, I'm gonna put some clothes on-"

Dipper stepped over the threshold, and suddenly they were extremely close, and suddenly Pacifica realized that he smelled like the ocean from back home, and suddenly Pacifica realized how badly she wanted him, and suddenly Pacifica was even more aware of how naked and vulnerable she was.

And Pacifica realized that she didn't care less.

Dipper shut the door behind him, not backing down. She saw that he was pleasantly surprised by that fact that she wasn't either.

They stood that way for a few seconds. Dipper raised an eyebrow. Then she grabbed him by the back of the neck and stood on her tiptoes as he leaned down. Their first kiss was clean. Nice. Pretty.

That wouldn't do at all.

They met each other again and this time, they stayed together. He put his hand gently in her hair. She grabbed the back of his head roughly. The desire to stay clean gave way to their hunger.

Her aunt had told her to take chances before she left Florida, so Pacifica decided to follow the advice. She flicked her tongue into Dipper's mouth. He let out a surprised grunt, then followed in kind. They wrapped their arms around each other, completely lost in the heat of the moment. Pacifica nibbled on Dipper's lip when he drew away. His hand was on the tie of her robe.

"Paz," he said softly. She looked into his eyes and saw something that she wasn't expecting in them - timidity. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She simply smirked seductively at him. She slowly walked backward. The tie of her robe, one end still in his hand, came undone, and she stood before him in all of her naked glory. "Does this count as an answer, Starboy?" Pacifica asked, raising an eyebrow of her own.

"Pacifica Northwest," he said, shaking his head in disbelief, "you are full of surprises. I'll be gentle."

"Promise me you won't."

Dipper grinned at her, and with that, it was all over.

He rushed over to her, and she leaped onto him, wrapping her legs around his hips. Against her crotch, she felt his excitement. _Either he has the keys to his motorcycles in his pocket, or he's just happy to- oh my god I'm too excited to finish this joke_.

As he nibbled and sucked on her collarbone, leaving marks that wouldn't fade until the next morning, she unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off of him, feeling his well-developed chest rise and fall with each breath. Pacifica felt the air hit her back as Dipper moved. He sat her on the counter. "Ladies first," he whispered into her ear, and then his face went back to nuzzling the crook of her neck. He trailed small kisses all the way down to her breasts. She inhaled in delight as his tongue circled the tips, then sucked at them, nibbling in a way that she never knew anyone could.

He repeated the process with the other breast, but by that point, she wanted release. Her lips were wet with anticipation. To soothe the impatience he felt radiating off of her, Dipper simply put a finger in just the right spot. With his mouth on her breast and his finger inside of her, Pacifica threw her head back and gasped softly. Then he moved on past the breast, moving his tongue down, getting on his knees, down past her navel, down-

She breathed in deeply again. His tongue lazily circled her lips as she folded her legs around his head, keeping him entrapped. Dipper zeroed in on the sweet spot, and this time, Pacifica could not stop herself from crying out as she rode the high, chasing it. She laid back on the counter and unwrapped her legs from Dipper's head. Dipper stood up, cracking his neck, as he watched her spasm happily from the pleasure. When she opened her eyes, Pacifica saw him smiling and silently laughing.

"What?" she demanded with no real venom in her voice.

"Your O-face, Blondie," he snorted, "is truly something to behold."

"Oh really?" she challenged in a far stronger voice than what she felt right now. Pacifica found her footing and stood up next to him, breasts pushing against his chest, a flirtatiously pouty expression on her face. "Yours won't be much better."

He cocked his head to the side, the stars on his forehead aligning. "Is that a bet?"

"Believe it," she whispered into his ear, and then took his hand and dragged him upstairs. Pacifica threw open the door to her room and pulled him in. Dipper already had his belt and pants off and was now struggling with his undergarments.

"Allow me," Pacifica purred, and pushed him against a wall, one hand on the back of his head so their lips could devour each other some more, one hand down his boxers. She ran her hand up and down his shaft, which was about as big as she thought it would be. Not that that was a bad thing, by any stretch. She loved the sound of his whine. Dipper pulled away, breathing hard. "You…" he panted. "You are surprisingly aggressive."

"You have no idea," she said, then pulled him over to the bed and pushed him to his back. She slowly slid the boxers off of his legs and crawled on top of him. She sat down on his hips. "You ready, big boy?"

He nodded, and she lowered herself onto his shaft. Pacifica felt it fill her up almost completely, and she grinned as she began to thrust her hips rhythmically. He groaned and leaned back. Pacifica wrapped her arms around his waist and began moving faster and faster. She leaned forward and bit hard on his neck, not stopping until she was sure that there was a bruise. Dipper rested his hands on her ass and moved with her, both together as one unit, one unit working faster and faster.

Pacifica felt it first. It was slowly building at first, then rushing on her all at once. She took one last look at Dipper, noting with some satisfaction that his face was also fairly embarrassing, before closing her eyes.

Yes, she felt it now. Building up inside her core-

Faster now-

Faster-

About to explode-

And

And

And

And then she sat bolt upright, her brow sweaty. She looked to the bed next to hers and saw Gideon fast asleep.

 _It's not like I dream about him at night_ , she remembered indignantly telling Gideon a few nights ago.

She sighed and sat back, resting her head on a pillow.

"Uh oh."


	8. Interlude One - The Show

"This seems like the right place," Pacifica told herself as she looked around. Fifteen minutes ago, her plane had landed in Portland International Airport, and she was standing next to the baggage claim, stretching her legs out from the five-hour plane trip.

Pacifica looked down at the note again. It had her aunt's slightly-schizophrenic handwriting, looping all over the page, and it smelled like sea salt and dead fish.

Smelled like home.

 _First cross-country trip, yay!_ it read. _Hope you get there safely. Remember who you're looking for - my brother, Bud, is enormous, and he said he'll be wearing a bright-pink shirt. He'll have your cousin with him. Between you and me, you'll probably see his hair before you see the rest of him. I mean, really. It's taller than he is. He could store food in there or something._ Pacifica snorted at the thought.

 _Remember what I showed you about fixing cars - I have no doubt that Bud will put you to work. Heck, he might even let you see the gift he's fixing for you. Always remember that I love you. Your uncle does too. Priscilla would be so proud of you._

 _Love always-_

 _Aunt Jo_

Pacifica smiled as she put the note in her pocket gingerly. She definitely would miss Florida, but she was going to enjoy her summer.

"What is _that_?" a voice from next to her said, astonished. Pacifica looked at the conveyor belt and saw her suitcase. It was bedazzled in pink, purple, red and white sequins from the wheels to the handle.

"That would be mine," she told nobody in particular as she walked to it and snagged it. Pacifica looked at the voice. It was a dude her age, blonde and generically handsome. His ponytail was about the only thing interesting about him, other than his socks. They were neon green and bright orange. "Nice socks!" she said cheerfully as she pulled the handle out of its sheath and walked away, wheels rolling behind her.

At least the guys were cuter in Oregon than they were in Florida.

 _Stop it,_ she scolded herself. _I didn't come here for a summer romance._

As Pacifica walked to the gate, she looked around for a familiar face. She hadn't seen her relatives since Thanksgiving when she was twelve. Had they changed much? Okay, dumb question, of course they had.

"MIZ NORTHWEST!" a voice echoed from across the pavillion. She turned and grinned. Bud was, in fact, wearing a pink T-shirt with the Rolling Stone's logo emblazoned on it. He had shaved his beard and was beginning to lose the hair on top of his head. Gideon was riding on top of his shoulders, and Paz saw that her aunt was not kidding about his hair. Enormous and white, the pompadour jiggled like Jello.

Gideon and his father had matching Cheshire-Cat grins, and Gideon held a large sign that made Pacifica die a little bit inside - _WELCOME BACK FROM PRISON, PACIFICA!_ it read in rainbow Sharpie, with a metric ton of glitter applied. It attracted several bewildered stares. They both had spotted her, and the grins on their face went from simply megawatt to blinding levels of brightness. Bud picked Gideon off of his shoulders and set him on the ground. With a delighted yell, he threw the poster to the side and ran over to Pacifica. He hugged her in a vice grip, and Pacifica returned the gesture, laughing, "Hey, cuz." She was promptly swept off her feet when Bud reached them, swinging her around. Bystanders scowled and moved out of the way of the overjoyed reunion.

Eventually, Bud set her down and took a good look at her. "Holy cow, princess, you've grown!"

"That tends to happen when you get older, Uncle Bud," Pacifica teased playfully. "What happened to the beard?"

Bud unconsciously ran a hand over his jaw. "Started to look a little too much like someone from the Old Testament," he replied, grinning sheepishly.

Gideon rolled his eyes. "Looked like Santa Claus had come to the Falls," he said. "Good to see you, Paz."

"You too, Gid." He had changed his clothing style from a few years ago - where he had worn polo shirts and jeans that were a size too small for him, he now wore comfortable-looking cargo shorts, an orange T-shirt and a blue vest. His glasses had disappeared back to the unholy depths they had came from - they had been black, thick-rimmed and made his eyes look like a frog's. Now, a rim of light green surrounded his pupils. Contacts.

As she followed them out to the parking lot, the sign abandoned on the floor and her suitcase trailing behind Bud as he held the handle, Pacifica wondered how much she had changed. Her clothing style had stayed the same. Her enormous sweaters, shorts. She had grown her hair out; Pacifica shuddered at the thought of the bob she wore when she was twelve.

Mentally, though, she was different. In hindsight, when she was twelve, she was manic. Always yelling, always running around, always acting strangely just because she could. Now, she was calmer. She still liked to cut loose, but she could have normal conversations now. The accident had sobered her up. John had done it even more.

 _NO. I am not going to think about John once while I'm here._

Thankfully, that distressing subject disappeared from her head when they walked outside. Goosebumps immediately sprouted on her flesh, and she mentally congratulated herself on wearing a sweatshirt. "It's cold up here," she said out loud. "Goodbye, tan."

Bud checked his phone. "It's only seventy," he replied. "How hot is it in Florida?"

"Very." The conversation stopped in its tracks when Pacifica caught sight of the car. "Is that-" she gasped in delight.

"Yup," Gideon said smugly.

"With a-"

"Yup."

"Did you-"

"Paz, just go look at it yourself.

It was a 1980 Camaro, painted hot-rod red. Pacifica dashed over to it and began inspecting it, walking around with her mouth agape.

"Told you she'd like it," Gideon told his dad, smiling at her enthusiasm. "Hey, Paz! I'm thinking burgers, you in?" Pacifica managed to peel her eyes off of the car for thirty seconds to nod enthusiastically. "Stop Eleven?" he suggested to his father.

"Sounds good." Bud hauled the suitcase up with a grunt and a comment about the multitude of sweaters it contained. He got into the driver's side.

Gideon held the passenger side door open for Pacifica. "After you." Pacifica noted that there wasn't a backseat, so she would have to be crammed in between her cousin and her uncle, neither of which were particularly small people. Pacifica sucked in a breath and her gut and squeezed in. Gideon hopped in, and off they went.

xxx

Bud was notorious for being a speedster around the Falls, always trying to get somewhere as fast as he could. Gideon was impressed when he went exactly the speed limit all the way down the highway. About two hours later, they pulled off an exit and drove into the parking lot of Stop Eleven Burgers And Tenderloins.

"What's a tenderloin?" Pacifica asked as they got out of the car, voice raspy from belting out the entirety of the only Led Zeppelin album Bud owned. Bud and Gideon gaped at her, and five minutes later, she was seated at a table, moaning happily from the pork tenderloin she had devoured.

"You've really never had a tenderloin?" Gideon asked, looking up from his cheeseburger.

"Nah, in Florida," she replied cheerfully, "we have to hunt iguanas for food."

Bud snorted through his double bacon burger. "What happens if you can't kill any?"

"We starve," Pacifica said darkly, before her and Bud shared a cackle at Gideon's horrified face.

"So what's the plan for the summer?" Gideon asked, throwing his cousin a dirty look.

"Well," Bud replied, chewing his burger, "I'm planning on giving you and your cousin the next two days off, but after that, I'm putting you two to work. Paz, have you studied anything about cars?"

She nodded. "I'm still learning, but at least now I know the difference between the transmission and the engine."

"We'll start slow and go from there. Soon, you'll be building your own car."

"Sounds like a blast, Uncle."

"No no no, if you're living in my house, you're calling me Bud. Saves time."

"You never let me call you Bud," Gideon complained.

"That's because you're my son and I'm allowed to bully you a little bit. Alright, get ready, we're about thirty minutes away from the Falls." Bud stood up, brushed off the crumbs, and lumbered his way to the bathroom.

Pacifica and Gideon looked at each other and rolled their eyes, grinning. Pacifica looked around and saw a familiar face. "Sock Boy!" she gasped.

The blonde guy turned around, and his eyes widened in recognition. "Weird Girl!" he said, grinning a bit. "You seem familiar!"

"You too. You live in Gravity Falls?"

"I'm a native, yeah. Maybe I could show you around town sometime?"

Pacifica was about to consider the offer when Gideon leaned around and saw who she was talking to. "Sock Boy? It must be Gabe."

Gabe saw Gideon and his handsome face turned into a scowl. "You."

"Yeah, me."

"How'd you ever get out of the girl's locker room we shoved you in? Did they ever stop throwing tampons at you?" His scowl turned into a sadistic grin.

Gideon wasn't fazed. "How's the new puppet coming along?" he asked. "What was its name again? Cela-something?"

Gabe's eye twitched. "I'll have you know that the kids love Celestabellebethabelle."

"What, exactly, is happening?" Pacifica asked. "Celestawhat?"

"I run puppet shows for the kids at the library," Gabe explained, a smug smile growing on his face.

"That's nice of you."

"He also makes out with his hands," Gideons stated flatly.

Gabe reddened. "I do not!"

"Hey, man, I'm not judging. You're prolly better off doing that than making out with a body pillow. But you don't do that, do you?" Something had come over Gideon as he leaned back in his seat with a smirk.

Gabe took a step forward, hands clenching. "I can't believe this," Pacifica sighed, and took a step between the two. "You, pretty boy," she growled as she poked Gabe in the chest with each word. "Stay. Away. From. My. Cousin."

His red face turned white. "You're his cousin? How? He's a midget, and you're…"

"What am I?"

"Uh, well…" He was clearly trying to find the least perverted way to say _pretty_.

"What I _am_ is about to kick your butt between your ears if you don't do the smart thing and leave Gideon alone. Capisce?"

"Uh…"

"Do you capisce?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I capisce."

"Then get gone, Gabe."

With that, he walked out the door, shooting an I'm-watching-you glare at Gideon, before getting into a car and driving away, tires squealing.

"Nice save," Gideon said, relieved, but his cheerfulness faded when Pacifica whirled on him with murder in her eyes.

"And _you-_ " She pointed furiously at him. "What was that about?! Since when do you start fights with people?!"

"I didn't start anything," Gideon claimed defensively. "I know this jackass, Paz. If I don't strike first, then he'll rip into me. You heard him. I don't want to spend another two hours in a locker room with a sports bra on my head!"

"So that's what you do now? You pick fights?" Pacifica had calmed down a little bit, but the fire in her eyes was still smoldering. "What happened to you?"

"I got smart, Paz. Out of all the bullies at school, he's the one that I'm least worried about. He makes out with his hands, for God's sake. It's the bigger fish that scare me."

"Bullies?" By now, all of Pacifica's anger towards her cousin had dissipated. It was replaced by a cold nervousness for Gideon. "Like who?"

"There's one named, Tyler, he's a bigger guy. Jared, he just graduated but he thinks he's cool…"

Gideon went on like this for the better part of two minutes. Pacifica's eye started twitching in a way that Gideon did not like at all.

"That's… a lot of bullies," she said when he was done.

"But there's only one who scares the everloving crap out of me. His name is-"

"Dipper Pines!" Bud whooped as he slammed some paper down on the table. Pacifica looked closer and saw three blue slips. "And his sister Mabel! Just got tickets to their magic show from some random guy in the bathroom."

"You what?" Pacifica raised an eyebrow, but Gideon quieted her.

"Some random guy?" he asked. "What'd he look like?"

"Eyepatch, blonde, cool jacket." Bud shrugged. "He looked trustworthy enough."

"Dad," Gideon said, putting his palm to his face. "Seriously. What did he ask for as payment?"

"The soul of my very being," Bud answered in complete seriousness. Pacifica and Gideon gaped at him before his stone face turned into a grin. "Kidding, you two, lighten up. Fifteen dollars."

As Pacifica let out a relieved sigh, Gideon frowned. "Let me get this straight. A random dude with one eye approached you in the bathroom and sold you tickets to the world's most famous two-man magic show for fifteen dollars."

"Sounds about right."

"And _none_ of this sounds strange to you?"

"Nope."

Gideon sighed apparently used to dealing with his father. "Alright, what time is the show?"

"Four hours from now," Bud read from the tickets. "We should get Pazzy unpacked. We can consider this her vacation present."

"Sounds good, Bud." Pacifica was elated. She had always had a soft spot for magic.

As they made their way out the door, the eye on the wall that had been watching them disappeared with a small chuckle.

xxx

Pacifica's first experience with the paranormal began about a mile past the sign that read "Welcome To Gravity Falls! Population - 667". Pacifica noticed that the population number was a bit anticlimactic. When she told this to Gideon, he said, without looking up from his phone, "Give it an hour or two. Befufftlefumpter's gonna bite it any day now."

As Pacifica watched out the window, she noticed a tiny… something. It had a bright red cap that looked as sharp as a spear, and it was about a foot tall. It looked at her and hissed angrily, showing fangs. "What," she said flatly, and frantically tapped Gideon until he looked up. "Gideon, is there an active midget community in Gravity Falls?"

"Yeah, there is, but they prefer to be called 'little people'," Gideon said. "That's a gnome. I recognize that one, that's Phil. He tried to bite off my finger a week ago."

"A what?"

"You don't have those in Florida?"

" _No_ , we don't have mythical creatures in Florida! We just have rednecks."

"Eh, close enough. Ooh, watch this." Gideon rolled down the window and yelled, "Yo, Phil!" The gnome glared at him. Gideon stuck out his middle finger. The gnome withdrew in offended shock.

"Aww, now you hurt its feelings," Pacifica noted.

"I'm not worried."

"Gid," Bud chided lightly, "what did I tell you about provoking the gnomes?"

Gideon sighed. "That it's demeaning and insensitive."

"No, it's because they'll form a gnome Voltron and try to kill us."

"Dad, I think that we're kind of springing this on Paz," Gideon said, and gestured to Pacifica, whose mouth was hanging open and eyes were wide. "Okay, so crash course. Monsters are real."

"I got that part," Pacifica said smally.

"Good! Why they're here, I'm not sure, but compared to the townsfolk, they seem normal."

Bud snorted. "Ain't that the truth."

As they coasted into the gravel driveway of the Mystery Shack and Auto Repair, Gideon continued. "Most of them are dangerous, and the ones that aren't are straight-up weird. Like there's, get this, a Leprecorn! Like it's half-leprechaun, half-unicorn."

Pacifica moved past her shock pretty quickly. "Okay. So monsters exist. Cool. Explains the crap out of the six-legged lizard I found on spring break."

"Nope," Gideon replied as he hopped out of the car. "That's all Florida."

Pacifica thought about being offended, decided that his comment was fair, and followed him out, grabbing her suitcase.

The gift shop that served as the front entrance was filled to the brim with "doo-hickeys, thingamabobbers, and whatchamacallits," according to the sign. Ridiculously expensive doo-hickeys. Pacifica picked up a shirt that had a panther on it. "Fifty bucks?" she asked incredulously.

"People will buy anything," Gideon explained as he passed a shelf with toothbrushes on it.

"Behold," Bud said proudly as he unveiled his latest creation, "El Pedo Mojado!"

It was a stuffed muskrat with devil-like horns glued to the top. "It's… something, Bud," Pacifica managed to say nicely. "Where should I put my stuff?"

"You're bunking with me for the summer," Gideon explained as he led her up the stairs. "Two beds, you're on the right side." He opened the door to a room on the right side of the hallway, and there was the room.

It was a nice room, fairly nondescript. The two beds were on opposite sides of the room. The roof was sloping inwards, making the room almost triangular. The solitary window was a circle, and bright light shone in from outside.

"Alright, I'll leave you alone to unpack-" Gideon started to say, but Pacifica simply put her suitcase on the floor, unzipped it, and flipped the top open.

"Unpacked," she announced.

"Living out of your suitcase? Bold choice."

"Fortune favors the bold."

"The bold don't last long around here," Gideon told her, his face stony and serious. Suddenly, he looked older. "Look, Pacifica, I need you to always keep a lookout. Monsters are everywhere, and I'm the only one who knows how to fight them. So just… just stay safe, okay?"

Pacifica looked into his gray eyes and saw that he wasn't joking. So she nodded solemnly. "I promise."

There was a shatter downstairs, followed by hissing and screeching. Gideon and Pacifica looked at each other. "That didn't take long," Gideon said, rolling his eyes and sighing.

Pacifica ran into the hallway and down the stairs before her cousin could stop her. The stained-glass window had shattered, and climbing through it was the gnome from earlier. It gave a threatening hiss and lunged at her...

… only to fall about six inches short of her ankles. Pacifica rolled her eyes and kicked it into the stand that held the Pedo Mojado up. With a squeal, it picked itself up, only to get clobbered on the head by the stuffed muskrat. Pacifica reached to her right to grab whatever crappy souvenir was placed there, and picked up a grappling hook. It was probably made of cheap plastic, but it was better than nothing.

As the gnome rushed at her, gibbering angrily, she tucked the gun into the pocket of her sweater and picked it up like a puppy, holding it at arm's length. "Aww," she cooed, "you're kinda cute, aren't ya?"

Phil the gnome responded by biting her on the hand. "Ouch!" she yelped, and punted it like a weirdly-shaped football. Its rear end landed on the devil horns of El Pedo Mojado, and it bounced in the air like a cartoon character, screeching in pain. Pacifica, with the speed of a gunslinger, whipped the grappling hook back out and fired. The hook smacked the gnome square in the middle, launching it straight out the broken window.

"Nice shot," Gideon complimented mildly. He had seen the entire thing. "Guess I don't have to watch you as closely as I thought." Pacifica grinned at the compliment.

"Do gnomes try to break in often?" she asked.

"About once a month," Gideon replied as he looked out the window. The gnome was scrambling back to the woods, whooping in fear. "That'll teach him for a little bit."

Bud entered from the door that Pacifica assumed led to the garage, wiping his forehead. "Why did Phil the gnome just get thrown out a window?"

Gideon pointed at Pacifica. "Her fault!"

"That window was already broken!" she protested. Bud simply rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, they break the window quite a bit. It's dirt cheap, I'll get Melody to install another. Okay, the show starts in an hour and a half, so start getting ready."

"I call first shower!" Pacifica said. Gideon groaned and made her promise to not take forever. Ten minutes later, she was in the shower, belting out a song. " _Should I stay or should I go now?"_ she yelled, not caring about whether she was good or not. " _If I go there will be troublllleeee… and if I stay it will be doublllleeee…"_

There was a knocking from the other side of the bathroom door. "If you stay in that shower, it'll definitely be double!" Gideon called. "Get a move on!"

Humming, Pacifica dried herself off and walked to her and Gideon's room. She got dressed and walked downstairs, only to find Bud in a nice suit, freshly shaved. Gideon was currently attempting to tie a white tie, dressed in a godawful baby-blue suit. "Am I underdressed?"

They simply gawked at her. She was wearing a bright purple sweater that said "Meow You're Talking!" with a picture of a cat emblazoned on it, and a pair of jeans that were almost white with use. "Yes, Paz," Bud replied. "You are a little underdressed."

"Ooh, I could wear my tuxedo sweater! It's black and it has little pictures of mini tuxes on it, it looks super fancy-"

"Dad," Gideon said, ignoring her, "do you think she could fit into one of Mom's old dresses?"

Pacifica stopped her rambling and felt a little panicked. Her Aunt Jean was, in Bud's own words, a big beautiful woman. Pacifica was… not. She could have probably worn a parachute and it would have fit better than anything that her Aunt Jean wore.

Thankfully, Bud picked up on the problem. "Nah, she looks fine the way she's dressed now," he said. "Let's get going, we'll be late."

As they loaded into the car again, Pacifica looked out and saw a gnome glaring menacingly at the house. _That's not a good sign_ , she thought to herself as they pulled away.

Downtown Gravity Falls was pretty typical - general stores, a few diners, and some shops. Almost everything was painted blue, which Pacifica didn't really understand, but that thought faded from her mind as they pulled up into the parking lot of the Tent of Telepathy. It was an enormous teepee-looking building, its conical shape pointing straight up into the sky.

They got in line, and Pacifica was once again aware of how underdressed she was. The men were dressed in fancy tuxedos, and the women were wearing colorful dresses. Almost every tie was blue, she noted. Bud handed the tickets to a pimply teenager, and they were promptly admitted into the lobby.

"It's a lot bigger on the inside," Pacifica whispered to Gideon, who started humming the theme song to Doctor Who. Pacifica snorted. They passed a poster as they made their way into the main stageroom. It was black, except for two pairs of glowing blue eyes, and the only two words on the poster struck her.

 **TRUST US.**

Staring, transfixed, at the poster, Pacifica didn't look where she was going and promptly ran into a man. Compared the others, he was also underdressed for the event, wearing a bright red polo shirt and white shorts that were _way_ too tight and showed off _way_ too much hairy legs. "Sorry!" she yelped.

The man turned, almost robotically, and stared at her. Pacifica was creeped out until the man smirked, said, "Meow You're Talking. Nice," and walked off.

"That's Poolcheck," Gideon explained. "He's… out there."

They took their seats just in time. The lights went out, leaving them in pitch-black darkness, and from nowhere, a guitar started playing. It was an alt rock song, and it seemed almost psychedelic. "Doctor," the singer crooned, and on cue, a light shone in the back, revealing a person in a doctor's smock, with a surgical mask covering his face. Pacifica only saw brown hair and blue eyes.

"Look into my eyes," the singer continued, "I've been breathing air but there's no sign of life…" The blue spotlight flickered for half a second, but the figure had already disappeared. Gasps filled the auditorium. Another light on the other side, closer to the stage, snapped on, and the boy was underneath it, this time with a syringe in his hand.

"Doctor, the problem's in my chest…" The singer's voice was deep and light, tenor and alto, totally alien and utterly familiar. Pacifica racked her mind, but couldn't think of anything. She nudged Gideon and asked what the band was, and he replied with "Cage the Elephant".

"That's a weird band name."

"It's a weird band."

On stage, the light shined, and a girl with flowing brown hair was standing there, ramrod straight and eyes unfocused. "My heart feels cold as ice, but it's anybody's guess…"

The light flickered yet again, and suddenly the boy was right beside the girl, syringe pointed at her neck. The girl was suddenly entangled in a straightjacket that hadn't been on her before. "Doctor, can you help me 'cause I don't feel right, better make it fast before I change my mind, Doctor can you help me 'cause I don't feel right, better make it fast before I change my mind…" The singer was fast now, and as the song picked up with more instruments, the light flickered again, just as the boy swung downwards with the syringe. It was only for half a second that the light went off, but when it came back on, the boy with the surgical mask was in the straight jacket, and the girl stood next to him, smiling devilishly.

The singer kept crooning words, but Pacifica lost interest. She watched the two as the light flickered and they kept appearing in different spots on the stage, the straightjacket alternating between the two of them. Finally, the spotlight settled on the two of them together in the center of the stage, and the music slowed down. The boy had on the straightjacket, and he seemed to be struggling to escape it. "And as the darkness falls, it fills up both my eyes," the singer crooned slowly. "My life before like a flesh, in the night, with my arms, open wiiiiiide…" The lights went out completely, except for the boy's glowing blue eyes. The guitar built up, and then the power cords kicked in, and on cue, the boy _exploded_.

Blue flames completely disintegrated the jacket, and the boy brushed ashes off of his shoulder. He was wearing, instead of a doctor's uniform, an electric-blue waistcoat, with a black cape billowing in wind that seemed to come from nowhere. Around his neck was a medallion that glowed with a sea-green light. Pacifica couldn't make out much of what he looked like, so she focused on the girl, who was stepping up to the forefront of the stage as the song ended.

She was dressed in a blue blouse and had black tights underneath a short blue skirt. Her earring was the same color as the medallion. She had apparently decided to forgo the cape. Her chocolate hair fell down to her waist, and her grin was welcoming, but mischievous.

 **TRUST US.**

 _Yeah, no. I don't trust anybody in a cape._

"Hello, Gravity Falls!" she boomed cheerfully into the microphone. The crowd went wild, cheering and whistling and stomping their feet.

"My name is Mabel Pines, and this is my twin Dipper! And we are here to make sure that you have a great time!"

For the next two hours, pure magic happened. Mabel was definitely the showman of the duo - always grinning, always talking to the crowd and hyping them up, and always ready to beat up Dipper. Finally, after making the chainsaw that had been used to saw her brother in half vanish in hammerspace, she announced, "Alright, folks, for our last trick of the night, we are bringing out the big guns! Hold on to your rears!"

With a puff of smoke, an honest-to-God cannon appeared out of nowhere. It was, surprise surprise, painted blue, with red flames on the side. The mouth of the barrel was pointing at the left wall of the stage. Dipper snapped his fingers, and the fuse was lit, slowly burning away. He resignedly climbed into the opening. Mabel put a helmet on his head and brought the microphone to his mouth. "Any last words, bro-bro?"

Dipper, deadpan in his only sentence of the night, said, "I hate this part."

BOOM!

Pacifica was blinded for a second. When the smoke cleared, there was a vaguely human-shaped hole in the left wall. Light shone in from the outside, probably generating from the moon. The crowd was silent, jaws agape in astonishment. Finally someone said what everyone was thinking - "Uh, is he dead?"

Mabel grinned. "Fortunately for our legal team, and unfortunately for me…" She gestured, and a man came out of the front row - it was Dipper, alive, well, and unimpressed.

The crowd burst into applause, and over the top of the noise, Mabel yelled, "Thank you, Gravity Falls! Have a good night!" With a puff of smoke - the final one for the night - Mabel and Dipper Pines disappeared.

A loudspeaker-like crackle came from the ceiling above. A voice that sounded like an old man who had no idea that he was on a loudspeaker loudly shouted, "THE GIFT SHOP IS TO THE LEFT! NO PUSHING, SHOVING OR STABBING! CRAZY LAZY SUSAN IS NOT ALLOWED!"

"You'll never take me alive!" an old woman shouted, then bolted.

As the Gleefuls and Northwest left the tent and made their way to the car, Bud and Pacifica couldn't stop gibbering about how amazing the show had been. Pacifica noticed that Gideon was being quiet, and nudged him, noticing the starstuck look in his eyes and the wistful smile on his face. "You good, Gid?"

"What? Me? Yeah, I'm good. Better than good. Well, not that much better than good, but I'm not doing bad-" he babbled. Pacifica was a little freaked out, but Bud knew his kid.

As they got into the car, Bud casually said, "Say, Gideon, that Mabel girl, she goes to your school, right?"

If Gideon turned any more red, he was going to start smashing through walls, yelling "OH YEAH!" As it was, he managed to squeak, "Yeah."

"She's kinda cute, right?"

"Yeah, a-a little."

Pacifica watched this like she was watching a tennis match, flicking her eyes back and forth between the two of them. She thought it was kind of cute. "Is she nice?" she asked.

"Nicer than her brother," Gideon replied darkly. "She usually has to tell him to lay off. I think she might be the saner one."

"Shame," Pacifica said. "He looked cute."

The car sped home, and Pacifica didn't see the gnome run out in front of them. Bud did, and with copious amounts of swearing, braked and sent them all forward. Gideon smacked his head on the console and came back up with a bright red mark on his forehead.

"Gnomes?" he asked, dazed.

Bud pulled into the driveway, and before the car stopped rolling, he was already out. "THOSE BASTARDS TP'D OUR HOUSE!" he boomed, and ran into the garage, picked up a golf club, and ran into the forest, yelling. About a dozen miniature voices squealed.

"Well," Gideon said, gesturing at the house, now covered in white strips of toilet paper. "Welcome to Gravity Falls."

Pacifica started to laugh.

 _Welcome to Gravity Falls, indeed._

 **Song is "Cold Cold Cold" by Cage the Elephant (which, you gotta admit, is a weird band name). Shoutout to Barbacar for the idea of a cannon. Onto the main story!**


	9. Happy Medium - Darker Shade Of Black

The front door to the Mystery Shack and Motor Repair slammed open and startled Gideon awake. As he swatted Waddles away from his head, where the pig had been nibbling on his ear, he sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes. Had he fallen asleep while reading the Journal again?

He walked downstairs, rubbing his eyes and yawning something about carnivorous pigs - there was weirder stuff in Gravity Falls - and paused to burp. The taste of Skittles filled his mouth, and what seemed like a rainbow poured out of his mouth like a frosty breath on a winter day. It dissipated into the sun.

"I really hope that's not permanent," Gideon groaned to himself. It had been six days since the Corgon incident, and rainbows were still erupting from his… bodily orifices. It was kinda gross, but Mabel thought that it was cool.

He brightened at the thought of her. They had been texting daily, and tonight was a big night - their first date. He only hoped that her slightly-psychopathic brother wouldn't find out. He really liked Mabel, and although he could be wrong, Gideon thought that for the first time, a girl really liked him.

The thought stopped in its place when he saw what the cat had dragged in. Pacifica was propping up a figure and yelling, blood covering her purple tank top. Her sweater was tied around his shoulder, looping around his armpit and his shoulder. It was stained in crimson.

"Paz, oh my god!" Gideon yelped as he helped her guide the figure to the couch. "What happened?!"

"I think…" she panted. "I think he's dying."

On the couch, Gideon's veins ran ice-cold when he finally saw who it was.

Dipper Pines was bleeding out on Gideon's couch.

THREE HOURS EARLIER

"Well, shit."

Dipper kicked the tire of his bike dejectedly. Two hours ago, Mabel had found his bike in the woods and, in her own words, "placed it gently on the ground," by which she meant that she had thrown it haphazardly onto the back lawn. It was covered in mud, leaves and something that looked suspiciously like squirrel poop. The red flames had gone a mild rust color. The seat, which had been freshly washed six days ago, was caked in waste.

He was _not_ happy about this. But at least it gave him something to do, which would be a nice change of pace.

For the last six days, Dipper had mostly remained in his room, only coming out for show practice, helping with Ford, and breakfast. Heartbreak be damned, Stan's waffles were the best thing ever.

Okay, "heartbreak" was probably too strong of a word. Disappointment? Yeah, that was a bit closer. Was he vaguely sad about the fact that the only human that he had been friendly to in six years had yelled at him to stay away from her and stormed off? Dipper was a little annoyed by that, sure.

He had finally gotten done with his moping, though, and was ready to rejoin the world. First things first, he thought to himself as he paced through the backyard. Dipper grabbed his cell phone - with a blue phone case, naturally - out of his pocket and called the repairman.

"Hey, Mister Ramirez, it's Dipper Pines. Any chance I could make an appointment for today? My bike is, uh, a little messed up."

"Oh, hey, dude!" One thing that Dipper always appreciated was Soos's omnipresent cheerfulness. "Yeah, sure I can hook you up with a fixup! Just gotta call boss-man. I'll call back in fifteen, dude."

"Alright. Thanks, Mister Ramirez."

"Call me Soos, dude!" The line went dead.

"Well, that went well," Dipper said. The day was going well so far, although it was pretty short. Dipper looked at the clock on his phone. Eight o'clock. Usually, his sister would be up at 7:30, but last night, she had had her girlfriends over and they hadn't gone to sleep… ever, now that Dipper thought about it. Sure enough, as he walked inside, he had to take a running leap over Grenda, who was knocked out at the door between the kitchen and the living room, snoring like a sumo wrestler/semi truck hybrid. Candy was draped over the couch, and Mabel had curled up on the dining room table with Sharpie markings covering her face.

Dipper smirked, grabbed a Sharpie, drew a dick on her forehead, took a picture, and strolled out the door.

It was a beautiful day. If Dipper could whistle, he would, but as it was, he just hummed the theme song to Duck-Tective.

He was dressed in his blue hoodie and cargo shorts. Dipper had combed his bangs down a bit to hide his birthmark. As he opened the door to the El Burro and sidled into a booth, a waitress walked over, not looking up from her phone. "Welcome to El Burro," she said flatly as her fingers typed away. "It's the greatest Mexican restaurant this side of Portland."

"It's the only Mexican restaurant."

"My name is Tambry and I'll be your server tonight."

"Tonight? It's 8:30 in the morning."

"And you're the one eating Mexican at 8:30 in the morning." She still hadn't looked up from her phone.

 _Fair point_. "I'll have an enchilada, please."

As Tambry the suspiciously non-Mexican waitress walked away, having never looked up from her phone, Dipper's mind went back to the bike. It was obviously fixable, but his mechanical skills were worse than non-existent. That wasn't much of an exaggeration - he had attempted to replace the motor of the boat that Stan had bought and accidentally turned the entire boat into a Transformer. One that shot lasers. And one that now roamed the lakeside, looking for Dipper for vengeance.

Dipper didn't swim much anymore.

"Call me Soos, dude!" Soos said into the phone, then hung up. He whistled as he got out of bed, pulling on his mechanic's jumpsuit. Emblazoned on the back was the letters GFM - Gravity Falls Mechanics.

Next to him, a figure yawned and rose up. As she sat on the bed, Melody rubbed her eyes and said, "Morning, babe."

"Hey, beautiful!" Soos replied cheerfully. "Gotta get going to work. Dipper Pines broke his bike again!"

"Dipper Pines…" Melody tried to remember who that was in her early morning haze. When she succeeded, she groaned and fell back. "That little jerk."

"You know him?"

"Know him? Everyone knows him. His family ruined my family!" She hesitated for a second. "Okay, maybe that wasn't _his_ fault, but I still have a grudge!"

"He's still my favorite customer, though. Hey, isn't he the same age as that friend of yours? What was her name again?"

"Pacifica? Yeah, they really hit it off, until Pacifica went nuts."

"Nuts?"

One thing that Melody always appreciated about her boyfriend was his willingness to listen. As she pulled her question mark T-shirt on, she explained. "See, we fought a giant Corgi that farts rainbows together after it put Gideon in a coma."

Another thing that she appreciated was his ability to accept those kinds of sentences as ones that were said like an everyday thing. He gestured for her to go on.

"Well, those two were really hitting it off - you know, arguing-slash-flirting. Anyway, we ended up outside his house, and then she told him to stay away from her and Gideon, then she stormed off." She shrugged as she pulled pants on. "Dipper was as surprised as I was."

Soos listened to her tale in silence. When his girlfriend finished, he nodded once. "I know just what to do about this," he said gravely - well, as gravely as it gets from a ray of sunshine in human form. He pulled his cell phone out again and called Dipper. "Dipdop!"

"Yo," came the response.

"So, problem. We couldn't get an appointment for you, but I do have a better idea. You know the other mechanic, on the other side of town?"

"The Mystery Shack And Motor Repair?"

"That's the one. Well, they're free this afternoon. Any chance you could get your bike fixed there?"

There was a muffled curse on the other end. "Yeah, sure, Mr. Rami-Soos. Thanks."

"Sorry, dude!"

"S'alright." The line went dead.

"Mission accomplished," Soos told Melody, grinning.

She stared at him. "You are _incredibly_ evil."

Soos took his hat off and pressed it to his chest. "My evilness is both a blessing and a curse," he said solemnly.

"You know, you're cute when you're evil. See you tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it, dude." Soos kissed her on the forehead and held the door open for her as she left.

His phone rang again. "What's up, dog?"

"RAMIREZ!" the voice on the other end yelled. "DID YOU SERIOUSLY GIVE ONE OF MY CLIENTS TO ANOTHER MECHANIC?!"

It was gonna be a long day at work.

Dipper put the phone down and groaned. His chimichanga (the waitress had gotten the order wrong) didn't look quite so appetizing.

This was gonna _suck_.

As he paid for his order (he left a low tip) and hoisted himself out of his seat, Dipper tried to think of what to say. _Sorry for…_ Wait, why the hell did he have to apologize? She's the one who went psycho.

Right?

Pacifica Northwest woke up from a _really_ weird dream and immediately swore to never, ever talk about it ever again. Ever.

The clock on her table read 9:00. She had slept in. Pacifica stretched and yawned. She whistled the tune to Duck-Tective as she pulled some clothes on. Paz had decided to wear her bright green "Hamsteriffic!" sweater and some cargo shorts. "Well," she noted as she looked herself in the mirror, "this is certainly a fashion statement."

She bounced her way down the stairs into the kitchen. Gideon was asleep on the couch, phone on his chest. Pacifica poked him a few times to wake him up.

"Hrmmagazzar," he mumbled as he swatted at her hand. "I'm awake, I'm awake, I've never slept a day in my life."

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" Pacifica wandered off to the kitchen to make some toast, which was, by her own admission, the only type of food that she could make and not destroy the kitchen. Even making cereal wasn't safe, and the fire department hadn't believed her when she told them that.

"Doo doo doo, makin' breakfast…" she hummed to herself as she plugged in the toaster. Pacifica prayed that it wouldn't explode on her like the blender had, and was pleasantly surprised.

Gideon sat at the counter and rubbed his eyes. "Ergh. I was up all night texting."

"You?" Pacifica asked incredulously. "Texting? Another human?"

He stuck his tongue out at her. "Yeah, yeah. A human _girl_ , too."

"Who - oh." Pacifica remembered the events of a few days ago. "Mabel. She seemed nice. We didn't really get to talk."

"She's really nice. A little bit psycho. You both hate her brother, so you have that in common."

"That creep. You said he bullied you, right?"

"Yeah, but…" Gideon hesitated, but Pacifica interrupted.

"He picks on you, I don't like him. Story's over."

"He's not as bad as I thought he was," Gideon said thoughtfully. "Dipper could have just let me die. There's something good underneath all of that douchebagginess."

Pacifica was about to answer, but the phone rang. "Bud!" she hollered as the toast popped out of the toaster. "Phone's ringing!"

From his bedroom, Bud said something along the lines of, "Hrgmrmrmmmrm," which Pacifica translated to, "Get it yourself."

Pacifica answered the phone, set on it speaker, and said in her best impression of Bud, "Thank you for calling the Mystery Shack and Motor Repair, how can we rip you off today?" Gideon snickered.

A male voice came from the receiver. "Yeah, hi, can I talk to Bud Gleeful?" The voice was deep and hesitant, like he didn't really want to be calling here.

It was Dipper Pines's voice.

Ah, crap.

Gideon and Pacifica both looked at the phone, then at each other in horror. "Speaking," Pacifica said in the same deep voice.

"I'd like to get a repair for my bike, is there any way I could schedule an appointment?" The voice sounded almost bored, but still polite.

"Of course, sir. Does 3:30 work?"

"Sounds good. Thank you."

"Can I get a name for the appointment?" Pacifica already knew it was, of course, but still felt obligated.

"Dipper Pines. See you at 3:30." The line went dead.

For the next thirty seconds, the silence was overbearing, until Gideon broke with a succinct, "Holy _shit_."

Pacifica felt like swearing too, but she managed to contain it to a deep exhale. "What are we gonna do?"

"We're gonna fix his bike is what we're gonna do," Gideon said confidently. "We're gonna bury the hatchet with him, and you're gonna talk to him like a normal teenage girl."

"Uh huh," Pacifica said, nodding. "Hey, Bud! Is there any errands you need to do at around 3:15?"

"Bank!" came the short reply.

" _Or_ I could go to the bank at 3:15 and never have to talk to him ever again."

"You can't keep running from John, Pacifica." Gideon said it so suddenly and so matter-of-fact that Pacifica about fell off of her chair.

"I am not running from him!" Pacifica said defensively. "I'm just… reluctant."

Gideon faced Pacifica and looked her dead in the eye. "I get it, okay? You don't want another incident like him. I've never had to live through what you did, so take my opinion for what it's worth. John will _never_ happen again. Getting feelings for someone else isn't the worst thing ever. It's bound to happen. You can't keep trying to escape."

"Look-"

"No, Pacifica, listen. You like someone, and that's good. It will help you move on, help you forget. But staying stuck on him? That's just giving him the satisfaction that he doesn't deserve."

Pacifica was quiet, then she hopped up and went outside in silence, leaving her half-eaten toast behind her.

"Does she seriously think that she's good at imitating voices?" Dipper asked no one as he sat on his bed. He had recognized her voice instantly, mainly because she was _terrible_ at pretending to be a full-grown man, but he had played along because he wanted to get it over with as quickly and painlessly as possible.

He probably _could_ have let Ford take a look at it, but he didn't trust the old man to not put a rocket thruster or a self-destruct mechanism or a little wicker basket on it. He shuddered at the last one.

No, Dipper needed an actual mechanic. The girl whose name he refused to say seemed like she was pretty knowledgeable at machines. She would have to do-

"Hey, kid!" Stan yelled as he barged in. Dipper yelped and snapped out of his thoughts.

"Stan! Knock first! I could have been, I don't know, masturbating or something!"

"Does 'something' mean listening to Katy Perry?" Stan knew that he had the kid boxed in. "You got a chair for an old man? I gotta talk to ya."

Dipper gestured to the other side of the room, where a well-used beanbag chair sat forlornly, as if it was terrified of the elderly rear end that was about to be placed upon it. Stan plopped down and leaned forward. He was dressed in his suit, as usual, and his gray hair shined in the sunlight streaming in through the window.

"Look, kid," he began. "I heard that you had some girl troubles."

"Oh god."

"Shut up and let me finish. Did you like the girl?"

"Did Mabel put you up to this? I told her to stay out of this."

"Do you like her?"

"She was alright."

"I knew an alright girl once," Stan said, his eyes flashing back to when he was young. Dipper wondered how long ago that was. Fifties, maybe? Forties? Ancient Egypt? Maybe the Jurassic period? _And on the eighth day, God made Stan Pines. It all went downhill from there._

Dipper told the voice in his head to shut up and listen.

"Her name was Carla. Met her when I was running naked through Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. She saw me and didn't run away screaming. I knew it was love at first sight."

"Why were you running naked through the town?"

"Not important, kid. We started talking, and every day, I fell a little more for her. Eventually, I bought a ring, decided to pop the question. But I was waiting for the right moment, took too long, and she met Shermie."

"She met Granddad?"

"She's your grandma, kid. Died a year before you and Kid Number Two were born. Moral of the story-"

"Run naked through the town until I see her and she falls in love with me. Got it," Dipper said sardonically.

"I mean, if you think it'll work. But don't take too long." He stood up with a groan. His back popped and crackled. "That reminds me, you might need to run to the bank. Your card is running low on cash."

"I'll do that in a few." Stan grunted and went to leave, but Dipper said, "Hey Stan?"

He turned around.

"Thanks."

Stan nodded and walked away.

 _Bank closes at five, and your appointment is at 3:30. Might as well stop by there on your way to the Mystery Shack._

"Good plan, me." Dipper looked at the clock. It was 10:00. "Nap time!"

Dipper laid his head down on the pillow and closed his eyes. Five minutes later, he felt something crawling on his arm. He sat up and looked. On his arm was a fuzzy brown thing with bright red eyes and fangs. "What the fu-"

With a _chomp_ , the Hampire clamped down on his forearm and stayed there.

"GET IT OFF!" Dipper swung his arm around, trying to dislodge it. It hung tight, snarling at him ferociously. Eventually, Dipper's mind slowed, and he tried to pull the demonic rodent off. He realized that the freaking rat was gonna tear off his skin before letting go.

Dipper sighed, resigned, and walked downstairs. Mabel was checking under the couch. "Here, hamster hamster hamster!" she called, like she was looking for a lost dog. She saw Dipper and stood up. "Ford lost the Hampire. You seen it anywhere?"

In response, Dipper held up his arm. The little bastard was still hanging there. "Pretty sure it's got my scent."

Mabel inspected the hamster. It growled at her. "How does your arm feel?"

"Tired, kinda weak. It's starting to get pale."

Mabel poked it. "Does the Hampire look… bigger to you?"

Dipper and Mabel looked at each other, then the hamster. Sure enough, it was the size of a guinea pig. "That's… not a good sign," Dipper said slowly.

Five minutes later, Dipper and Mabel stepped off of the elevator to Ford's lab. Dipper's arm was numb.

"Oh, you found it!" Ford shouted from the other side. The portal was still wrecked, but he was slowly repairing it. Ford put his goggles up and jogged over. He held Dipper's arm carefully and inspected the rodent. "It's growing healthily, that's a good sign!"

"Ford," Dipper said through gritted teeth. "Get. It. Off."

"Please," Mabel added.

"Hmm?" Ford looked up, temporarily distracted. "Oh, right! Apologies." He dug around in his pockets and pulled out a cross and a pair of pliers. Ford grabbed the Hampire and waved the cross around. Immediately, the guinea-pig-sized hamster let go and shrieked in pain.

"Don't hurt him!" Mabel cried.

"Kill that thing!" Dipper shouted.

"Relax, sweetie," Ford said, patting Mabel on the head. "Just a momentary shock." He dropped the hamster in the same cage, which now had a conspicuous hole in the bottom. "And I can't _kill_ it. It's a new species! Who knows what it could do?"

"It could amputate my arm," Dipper said flatly as he inspected his wound. There were two little holes where it had been biting down.

"Oh please. Blood flows back!"

The Hampire clawed at the cage and roared demonically. Or at least as demonically as a hamster could roar, anyway. Mabel poked its cage. "It's so _cute_!" she cooed. "Its eyes are filled with rage! Ford, can I keep it in my room?"

"Apologies, dear," Ford said absentmindedly as he looked over Dipper's wound. Pulling a ball of cotton and some iodine from another one of his pockets, he started dabbing on the bite. "It needs to stay down here with me for future tests."

"What would you do with a vampire hamster, anyway?" Dipper asked, wincing. "Feed your boyfriends to it?"

"Yep!"

Yet again, Dipper made a note about how terrifying his sister was.

"Okey dokey," Ford said as he finished cleaning up. "It should be good for now, but you might wanna get a bandage on it. I think we have them upstairs, right?"

"Yep. Thanks, Ford. I think I'm gonna need to head to the bank. You gonna need any help for the rest of the day?"

"No, but thank you. I'm sure that Stanley will want to practice your act at around six." With that, Ford walked back to the portal.

"Bye, Ford!" Mabel called. He waved half-heartedly over his shoulder.

Back in the kitchen, Mabel stuck another smiley-face Band-Aid on Dipper's arm. His forearm was covered in them. Dipper had started to protest, but long ago, he had learned to just let it happen. "And, done!" Mabel announced as she smacked one on his forehead. "Lookin' fabulous!"

"Thanks, Mab," Dipper sighed. He could peel them all off later. "See you at practice tonight."

"No, you won't, bro bro," Mabel replied. "I got me a date tonight!"

"With Gideon?"

"Yup!"

"I don't have to drop you off or pick you up or anything, right?"

"We're walking. You don't have to see Pacifica."

The name sent a chill down Dipper's spine. "I wasn't-"

"Dip, it's fine, really. I get that she freaked out, but sooner or later, one of you is gonna have to make a move to wreck - recon - what's that word again?"

"Reconcile?"

"Yeah, that. As a good starting point, I would suggest being nicer to Gideon so she has one less reason to not talk to you."

"Fair point."

Dipper looked at the clock. Man, it was two o'clock already? "I'm gonna go work out for an hour, then run to the bank. Twin bump?" He stuck his fist out.

"Twin bump." Mabel tapped his fist with one of her own.

Pacifica put down the wrench and slid out from underneath the Cabo, humming along to The Rolling Stones as it blared from her radio. The undercarriage needed washing, and while she was down there, she found that the oil pan was dented. So Pacifica decided to pass the time with an impromptu repair session.

She took off her gloves and wiped an arm against her forehead. The oil stain could be dealt with later. "Doo doo doo doo, heartbreaker," Pacifica sang as she cleaned up the workstation. As she put the screwdrivers back into the toolbox, she kicked the jack that held the car up. It lowered itself to the ground.

Looking in the mirror, she groaned when she saw the rust stain on her jumpsuit. "Gonna have to clean that up," Pacifica muttered. She slid the creeper back underneath the shelf and stretched. The Cabo was looking better and better every day. Headlights had been replaced, transmissions had been updated and air fresheners had been installed.

"Heartbreaker, you're a heartbreaker…" Pacifica scatted as she turned off the radio. She took off her work boots and left them on the perch. Walking inside, she slung her nasty jumpsuit into the laundry room.

"Pacifica!" Gideon yelled from his room. "I need some advice!"

"I'm comin'!" Pacifica grabbed an apple and started heading upstairs. "You better have clothes on."

"That's the problem," Gideon said solemnly as he looked in his closet. "What should I wear tonight?"

"Well…" Pacifica looked in his closet. She saw a lot of orange t-shirts and blue vests. "As your cousin, I cannot let you wear a vest on your first date. That would be against my morals. Where are you going?"

"Ace of Clubs Bar and Grill."

"Okay, so a tie is probably too much."

"I'll wear anything, I just want her to have a good first impression?"

"Gideon, from the way she looked at you a few days ago, you could wear a loincloth and she'd still fall all over you. Now - do you have any flannel?"

An hour later, she had settled on an outfit for him. A red plaid button-up, sleeves unrolled, and jeans. "How do I look?" Gideon asked, turning around and looking at himself in the mirror.

"Lookin' like a snack, cuz. Might wanna go fix your hair, though." It was not in its usual pompadour, instead lying on his back. He had tied it in a ponytail, and with the flannel, Gideon looked like a hippy.

 _I don't really have any room to talk about hippies, I am one_ , she thought to herself. _So is my aunt and so were Mom and Dad and OKAY! MOVING ON!_

Gideon ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, that might take a while." He burped, and a rainbow flew out of his mouth. "Okay, is this permanent?"

Pacifica shrugged. "Not sure, but try to keep it on the down-low. You don't want to freak out everyone else at the restaurant."

"Good point. You might wanna take off."

Pacifica looked at the clock. Man, was it three o'clock already? "Alright, I'm gonna hoof it to town. Will I see you before you go on the date?"

"Yup. See you tonight!" Gideon walked down the hallway, leaving Pacifica in his room alone.

Waddles trotted into the room and nudged her leg. Pacifica sighed, picked him up, and cradled him like a baby. With a contented grunt, the pig rested his head on her shoulder.

"You wanna come with me, boy?" Pacifica considered taking him on the golf cart, but then remembered what the manager had said the last time Waddles had been allowed in the bank. He had only eaten a _couple_ hundred dollars…

"Alright, guess not." She sighed again. Pacifica noticed that she sighed a lot lately. Eh, whatever. She was a teenage girl, it was her God-given right to be a little melodramatic every once in a while.

"What do you think, buddy? Should I talk to him or not? Should I stay or should I go now?"

Aaaaaand now that song was stuck in her head. "If I go there will be trouble… If I stay there will be double… so, Waddles, you gotta let me know…"

Instead of being a polite piggy and continuing on with the song, Waddles started eating her hair.

"Ew! Get off!" Pacifica had learned a while ago that pigs were like cats - you could go bowling with them and they'd be fine. Pacifica dropped Waddles like a hot potato, and he rolled the ground, squealing, and sprinted out the door.

She followed him and passed Bud in the hallway. "Have you seen Gideon anywhere?" he asked. "Haven't seen him in a while. I just saw this well-dressed kid in a ponytail."

"He's in the bathroom. Is it okay if I take the golf cart to the bank?"

"Yeah, sure. Keys are on the counter. Be safe, yeah?"

"Of course. See you in a few hours." Pacifica snagged the keys and went out the door, letting Waddles out with her.

As she clipped Waddles to the leash out front, she looked around. The gnomes had mostly been in hiding for a few weeks, which made her suspicious, but at least she didn't hear the Hidebehind stalking her anymore. For the two days after the encounter, Pacifica had been looking behind her back, expecting to hear the demented maraca sound. She was paranoid about that, and she was always checking to see if Dipper was around.

That name brought up a flurry of emotions. She knew, deep down, that it was her fault that he was driven away. Pacifica had wondered about whether it was the right thing to do. On the one hand, he was dangerous, and sarcastic, and a bully towards Gideon. On the other hand, he was brave, he had saved her life and Gideon's, and he was protective of his family.

He was also kinda cute, which, Pacifica told herself, didn't matter.

The bank parking lot was empty when she pulled up, which was a little surprising. Walking in, the only person Pacifica saw was an older woman and her young son, and a short man in a leather jacket and glasses. He was the first in line at the teller, and Pacifica got behind him and waited patiently, checking her phone.

Her friends back home had been texting her nonstop, asking about the town (which she said was fun), the people (which she said were fascinating) and the boys (which she didn't respond to). Pacifica's lock screen wallpaper was a picture of her friends and her on the ocean, all on each other's shoulders, with her at the top, grinning.

Pacifica missed her friends, and Florida, and her aunt and uncle, but she wasn't ready to go back just yet.

The teller asked the man in front of her, bored, "How can I help you today?"

"I-I'd like t-to make a with-withdrawal, please," the man stammered. He sounded nervous.

"How much, sir?"

"All of it?"

"Excuse me?"

The man whipped out a pistol and leveled it at her. "I said all of it," he repeated, stammer gone and replaced by a cold determination.

Okay, Pacifica was ready to go back to Florida now.

"Everybody on the ground!" the man yelled, firing his gun in the air. The woman and her son hit the deck, screaming, with the mother covering her son's body with her own.

Pacifica put her hands up peacefully. "Okay, okay, relax," she said soothingly. "You don't have to do this. Point the gun somewhere else-"

The man pointed the gun in her face.

"Okay, somewhere other than there, please." Pacifica's stomach was somewhere in the center of the earth by now.

His finger started to caress the trigger.

"Okay, I'll just get down." Pacifica did so.

"You touch that phone, the bullet goes in your hand," he snarled, whipping around to the teller, who promptly dropped the receiver. "Start packing." The robber pulled a leather sack out of nowhere and tossed it at her.

 _This is bad_ , Pacifica thought to herself, panicked. _There are kids here. Maybe he'll just leave?_

The front door banged open, and a familiar voice yelled, "Oh my god, am I in a robbery?! This is so cool!"

Pacifica looked at who it was. "Oh, you have gotta be kidding me."

At three o'clock, Dipper walked out of the gym in his sleeveless shirt and shorts. The other rats had spent a lot of the time nodding approvingly in his direction. Dipper could tell that he had won their respect, which was good, because his arm was still covered in smiley-face Band-Aids. He grabbed the bike from where he had put it at the front door and wheeled it downtown.

"Downtown" was too strong of a term. It was a few restaurants, a bank and a "gentleman's club" that Stan often spent time at. No, it wasn't a strip club, it was just a bar where old rich people gambled. Dipper found that out when he tried to sneak in when he was thirteen and was massively disappointed.

"I don't know _whoooo's_ gonna kiss you when I'm gone," he sang off-key to himself. "So I'm gonna love you noowww… duh duh something..." Dipper didn't know the words, he just wanted to sing something to distract himself.

The bike was a lot heavier after the workout than it was before, and what was usually a fifteen-minute walk turned into a thirty-minute one. He managed to drink a little bit of his Caimanade (blueberry-flavored, naturally), but he still felt pretty thirsty.

 _First thing you're gonna do_ , he told himself, _is go to the gas station and grab yourself a soda or something._

He passed by the bank and was chaining up his bike when he heard it. With a bang, a gunshot went off inside of the bank and through the window. Dipper stared at the hole, then said, "Huh."

 _People are in danger_.

"Yeah, no kidding," he said, rolling his eyes at himself.

 _You gonna help them?_

A week ago, he would have walked away. But now, Dipper found himself raring to go. Helping people felt good, even when cute blonde girls avoided him like the plague for days afterwards.

Of course, he wasn't in this solely for his own joy. Dipper didn't dislike people enough to let them die.

"Okay, how am I gonna do this?" he asked himself. "Sneak in? Walk in and burn his face off? Talk him out of it?"

 _There could be kids in there. If you burn his face off, people could be hurt._

"Talk him out of it, it is!"

Dipper strolled up to the front door and with a kick that would make the guy from 300 proud, bashed it inwards. The robber was a short, bespectacled man with a large nose and a sketchy mustache.

"Oh my god," he yelled, putting on a show of wonder and allowing a broad grin to stretch on his face, "am I in a robbery?! This is so cool!"

The man pointed the gun at him, but Dipper didn't put his hands up. He surveyed the surrounding hostages. A mom and her son, okay. Bank teller, looking terrified, okay. The final hostage was blonde, female and familiar.

"Oh, you have gotta be kidding me."

 **Damn you, Jim Butcher. For the last month, I've been reading his series called The Dresden Files. Great story, awesome characters, but I kinda haven't been super motivated to write. Now that I've got the first story out of the way, I figured I would outline my goals for the series.**  
 **One thing I like about the Reverse Falls universe is that it's flexible. I can make the characters however I want them, within limits. It's nice to have a guideline.**  
 **You may have noticed that Dipper is a bit different in his portrayal here than in everywhere else. I always thought that his whole "superior to thee" relationship with Pacifica was a little creepy, so I made him a pissed-off, fire-slinging snarker so he isn't as perfect as usual.**  
 **Mabel is a lot like her regular counterpart, except, you know, a little more unhinged. For the record, I don't ship Mabel and Gideon in the regular 'verse, but in this one, I think that a relationship between them would be cute.**  
 **Stan and Soos are, essentially, the same, except Stan is closer with Dipper here and Ford is closer with Mabel. Ford, for the time being, is more of a composite between his regular form and the Medic from Team Fortress 2. Crazy, but fatherly... or so it seems.**  
 **The direction I want to take this series in is a little darker than it seems so far. Right now, it's mostly a ship fic (yes, they'll get together eventually), but as time goes on, I want it to get a little more story-driven.**  
 **And for the record - McGuckett will return eventually. One of these days, I'm going to go back and rewrite Robbie's character, because that's the only thing I'm disappointed with in this story so far.**  
 **Please leave some reviews if you want. I'm not saying that I need positive encouragement to function, I'm just saying that... okay, basically I do.**


	10. Happy Medium - Burnout

_Of all the banks being held up in all the world, he walks into mine,_ Pacifica thought.

 _Of all the banks being held up in all the world, I walk into hers,_ Dipper thought.

"Hands in the air!" the man yelled, and he pointed his gun at Dipper. _Better you than the kid,_ he thought to himself.

 _Better you than her_.

Dipper didn't put his hands in the air. "Sir," he said, not dropping the megawatt grin he was sporting, "I just want you to know that this is so cool."

 _Oh my god,_ Pacifica thought, _he's going nuts._ From her perspective, the grin was a con man's grin - loud and inviting. Why was he wearing it? Was he trying to lull the robber into a sense of security? Is he really that excited?

 _Oh my god if I don't stop smiling I think I'm going to shit my pants_ , Dipper thought to himself. Stan had taught him the smile. He liked to think that he had perfected it more than Mabel had. She had more of a slasher smile, which, combined with a glint in her eyes, made her extraordinarily creepy.

Dipper's smile made you want to trust him.

Mabel's smile made you think that she was gonna dismember you.

To be fair, she usually was.

"I mean it!" the man shouted. Dipper noticed that his hands were trembling. Must have been his first bank robbery. "Down on the ground with the girl!"

"The girl?" Dipper asked, feigning ignorance.

"Yes! Her!" The robber jerked his gun over at Pacifica, who, to her credit, didn't flinch.

"Oh, that girl?" Dipper did the _what's-up_ head nod. "Hey, Blondie."

"You know her?"

"Know who?"

"The girl!"

"What girl?"

"That girl!"

"The mom? I've never met her."

" _THE BLONDE ONE!"_

"What blonde girl?"

The robber fired into the ceiling. The mom screamed. The kid started weeping. Pacifica's eyes widened. Dipper smirked.

"Congratulations, dude, you know how a gun works."

His nonchalance threw the robber off. His knees were shaking, which Dipper thought was a little cliche, but whatever. He leveled the gun at Dipper again. "Next shot," the robber attempted to threaten, "goes through your skull."

Dipper gave a side look to Pacifica, rolling his eyes. "Look, Mr. Robber- I'm sorry, do you have a name?" he asked. "Calling you Mister Robber just makes me take you less seriously than I already do."

"Call me… Determined," the robber said confidently.

Pacifica, still kneeling on the side with her hands on her head, whistled sardonically. "Hope you weren't planning on using that as a supervillain name."

Now Pacifica understood why Dipper mouthed off to everything - it was kinda fun. Dipper nodded appreciatively to her.

The robber - sorry, Determined - seemed embarrassed now. "Of course not!" he snapped.

"So what _would_ be your supervillain name?" Dipper asked. _Stalling_ , Pacifica thought. _He must have already called the police._

 _Man, I sure wish I called the police,_ Dipper thought.

"Well, first of all, they would call me Doomsday," Determined said with a tone that implied that he had put some deep thought into this, "and second, I'm not a supervillain, I'm just a guy that needs some money. And you two are the ones standing between me and my goal. So if I were you, I'd move out of the way."

"It's copyright," Pacifica called.

"What?" Determined snapped as he turned to her, keeping his gun at Dipper.

"Doomsday. That name is the same as a guy at DC."

"And this involves me how?"

"Oh, it doesn't," Pacifica replied, smiling sweetly. "I just wanted to keep you distracted."

"To keep me wha-" Determined managed to squeeze out before Dipper punched him in the enormous nose.

There was a cracking noise, a squeal of pain, and blood flowing as Determined's nose broke. With a wail, he swung the gun at Dipper blindly, slamming the pistol into his shoulder. Dipper winced as he staggered backward. The teller passed out on the spot. The mom screamed in fear. The kid screamed, "GET HIM!"

With a Xena-like yell, Pacifica shoulder-rushed Determined in the small of his back. He flew forward, yelling nasally.

The robber fired blindly, and with a crash, the entire fish tank above the door exploded, dumping water everywhere - and on Dipper. He tried to roll out of the way, but he wasn't quite fast enough.

"Who puts a fish tank right above a door?!"

xxx

In the year 1837, President Quentin Trembley, for his third amendment to the US Constitution, decreed that tanks of water shall be placed above the door of each house. This was done to save money on legally-mandated fire extinguishers, despite costing more.

Naturally, this caused the national housefire average to rise into the thousands, and this policy was terminated when President Trembley "accidentally" fell into a container of peanut brittle.

Also naturally, the citizens of Gravity Falls ignored the policy cancellation because they had put, in the words of Mayor Befufftlefumper (who was one of President Trembley's right-hand babies), "pwetty fissies in doowa!"

And that was that.

xxx

All of this went through Dipper's mind, which he thought was strange. Here he was, facing a deranged, potentially deadly man with a gun, and he was thinking through history.

He felt a cold breeze flowing into his wet back, and he touched the back of his shirt, only to find it missing. He pulled his hand back and it was covered in a strange red liquid. Dipper idly wondered why, until he looked around him.

Glass, blood, water, flopping fish, and shredded scraps of shirt surrounded him on the ground. His shirt hung off of him loosely, so Dipper simply tore it off, feeling a bit like a superhero. He wondered why he felt like he was moving in jelly. Blood loss, probably.

Then Dipper saw the robber level the gun at Pacifica, and he moved.

Pacifica stared down the barrel of the gun fearlessly. At least, she hoped it was a fearless look on her face. She would hate to die looking constipated.

The robber fired.

There was a flash of blue.

And blood splattered all over her shirt.

 _And it was brand new too._

Pacifica yelled and punched the robber in the face.

She was pretty sure that she had just broken her thumb. Note to self, thumb goes on the outside.

Determined stumbled backwards and landed on his back in the pile of glass. He screamed in pain.

Then the rest of the fishtank fell down on top of him, and he was silent.

Pacifica wanted to say a cool one-liner, like, "And stay down," or "Tanks for nothing," (okay, maybe she wouldn't go with the second one,) but then Dipper groaned.

She sprinted over to him and crouched down. "Starboy! You okay?!"

Dipper didn't really turn towards her so much as flop in her vague direction. "No."

"What's wrong? Break your nose or something?"

Dipper lifted up his shirt, revealing an absolutely sculpted six-pack.

Covered in a red liquid that seemed to be leaking from his side.

"Oh my god," she whispered. "You've been shot."

"Bang," Dipper agreed, then his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Pacifica's mind raced. _This is bad. Thank you, mind, for stating the obvious. Shut up, mind._

The teller was dialing 9-1-1, hands shaking. _Hospital? Yeah, that's a safe bet._

Then Dipper jerked himself up. "No hospitals," he murmured, then went back out.

 _He's losing blood_ , the rational part of her brain argued. _Of course he needs a hospital_.

The impulsive side said, _Get him out of here._

Pacifica went with her gut. It changed her life, just a little bit.

She hauled him up and carried him over her shoulder. She was pretty proud of herself for doing that. Starboy was no featherweight.

"You're so strong," he mumbled, then giggled a bit and was still.

"Don't mention us," Pacifica told the teller, who nodded, pale-faced. "Kid, you alright? How's your ma?"

"She's un-conk-us!" the little guy said cheerfully. "She'll wake up! Thank you!"

"Yeah, well, don't tell the cops we were here, okay?"

"Okay! Gorney's got your back!"

"Er, thanks."

And with that, Pacifica hauled Dipper out the door. She plopped him into the golf cart, and made sure that he didn't slump over. She hopped into the driver's seat, placed an arm over Dipper's chest in the same way that a mother would with her kid, or a pizza delivery guy with his pizza, and sped off.

Dipper didn't really remember the trip to Pacifica's house, but screw him. It was Pacifica's turn for the narrative focus!

Of course, before he totally blacked out, Dipper managed to remember to do one thing. He shifted the sweater away from his gut. There was a slight flash of silver, then blood started flooding. The pressure was gone.

Dipper managed to focus at least a little bit, and his finger started glowing blue. _This is gonna be nasty_ , he thought resignedly to himself.

Pacifica looked over. "What-what are you doing?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.

He grinned at her. "Practicing my fingering skills."

Then he plunged his finger into the wound. It slid in with a satisfying _squelch_. Pacifica nearly tumbled out of the cart. " _JESUS!"_ she yelled.

Dipper dragged it back out, and it was covered in blood. The bullet was stuck to the end. "Top-notch," he said, winking at her deliriously. "What'd I tell ya?" He flicked the blood-covered bullet at her in the same way that a third-grader would flick a piece of paper at his classmate.

Okay, mission one achieved. What was mission two?

Oh, right.

Dipper ignited his hand with a blue fire. Pacifica noticed earlier this time. "No," she warned, a touch of hysteria in her eyes. "Do not. No, no no no no no no no-"

He took a deep breath, and shoved it on the wound.

The scream echoed across the town. Pacifica nearly swerved off the road. Dipper passed right out again, his still-smoldering hand laying limply to his side. His gut wound was severely black and red. _The idiot had tried to cauterize himself,_ Pacifica realized.

xxx

"He what?" Gideon demanded. "He _set himself on fire_?"

"Yeah, basically. He seems fine now."

They both glanced over to the sofa. Dipper was asleep on his back. Pacifica wondered if there was a difference between _sleeping_ and _unconscious_. She asked Gideon.

"Not really. I'd say he's more in a medically asleep way instead of a normally-asleep one."

"How can you tell?"

"Well, for one thing, he passed out when he's not tired. He's been in a lot of pain. And he seems like a snorer."

"'M nat a sn'r'r," Dipper mumbled from the couch. Gideon jumped about a foot in the air. Pacifica yelped, then raced over to kneel next to the couch.

"You're awake."

"On the outside," he agreed groggily. He looked at himself. "Did I get shot?"

"Er…"

"Awesome!"

"Awesome?" Gideon asked as he walked over. "That's pretty un-awesome."

"What happened to the robber dude?"

"Arrested," Pacifica told him. "The bank teller called the cops. Then we bailed."

"Ooh, we're fugitives!" Dipper seemed a bit more awake now. He was also out of his gourd.

Pacifica paled. "Oh god. We are."

Gideon snorted. "Yeah, I'm terrified that Officer Tats will be busting down our door."

"I should get another tattoo," Dipper mused. "I mean, I've already got one."

Gideon and Pacifica looked at Dipper, then at each other.

"It's kinda got a cult-y vibe to it, though. Really drives off people."

"It lets you shoot fire from your hands," Pacifica said drolly.

There was a beat. "I can shoot fire from my hands?! Man, I should get shot more often!"

Gideon went to the kitchen and came back with a purple pill and some water. "This will let you shoot fire from your feet, too," he told Dipper solemnly.

He chugged the water, then dry-swallowed the pill. "I can't wait!"

Within thirty seconds, he was asleep. "NyQuil," Gideon explained off of Pacifica's glare. "He'll be out for a while. And in that while, I have got to take a shower. Mabel will be here any minute."

"There's a kid that shoots fireballs out of his hands laying on our couch, shot, and he just cauterized himself. We just gave him terrible, _terrible_ first aid. You just drugged him. And you're more worried about a date?"

"He'll be fine," Gideon scoffed, then adopted a fairly-impressive British accent. "And my priorities are _impeccable_ , darling."

"Almost as impeccable as your stupid accent," Pacifica said. She sat down on the blue leather chair across from the couch. Dipper was snoring - _so he is a snorer_ \- as he sprawled out on the couch. "And then there were two," she narrated out loud.

"Mmrph," Dipper said as he rolled over, giving Pacifica an ample view of the injury on his ribs. It… looked unexpectedly clean. Pacifica had seen burn victims before when her uncle had brought her along to his volunteer fireman adventures, but none looked like this.

Ordinarily, burn wounds looked like melted wax. If it was on a limb, occasionally the bones would be visible. On the off chance that the wound actually healed (and by "off chance", the odds were astronomical), the black wound and crispy flesh never faded.

Pacifica also found that people with bad burns smelled like fried chicken. She didn't quite know what to make of that.

As she watched, a blue speck of light ran up and down the wound, just barely visible unless you were looking for it. The wound seemed to pale just a bit as it returned to Dipper's normal pale skin. The wound, in the shape of a hand, had previously covered his entire side, but had shrunk to a spot on his ribcage.

As Pacifica watched, her leg began to tingle a bit - the leg that she had wounded a week ago. It was almost poetic how first Dipper let her in to his home to heal. Now Pacifica was doing the same.

Then Dipper randomly said, "Mama, I don't wanna go to school," and the moment was gone.

"Whelp," Pacifica sighed, leaning back. "Looks like we're stuck here for a while." She grabbed the remote, turned on the TV, and flipped over to the news.

"-the robber was apprehended after, it appears, the bank's fish tank fell on his head," the reporter said into the camera. Behind him, a soaking wet Determined was hauled into a cop car, babbling incessantly.

"We have two eyewitnesses on the scene. One woman is being treated for a possible concussion, as she passed out after she saw the gun. The teller refuses to say anything." The reporter walked over to the young boy, now grinning from ear-to-ear. "Sir, is there any chance you can tell us what you've seen?"

The kid - Gorney - said, "Wouldn't you like to know, weather-boy?!"

The reporter's face went blank for a second, then he put his hand on his forehead. "Back to you at the studio, Tom," he groaned. "Where's my Advil?"

"Thank you, Jerry," the newscaster said. "And now, time for Six Hours Of Kittens!"

A picture of a kitten popped up. It was adorable.

Pacifica turned off the TV and slumped back in her chair, exhaling in relief. They were safe for a bit at least.

Then Dipper's pocket started vibrating. Pacifica briefly wondered if it was more magic, then realized that it was his phone. Pacifica walked over and crouched down next to the couch. "Okay, don't be getting the wrong impression," she sternly told the still-unconscious Dipper, and reached into his pocket. She dug out the phone.

The caller ID picture was one of a crusty old man, a pair of rabbit ears on his head and a playfully-grumpy scowl on his face. Next to him, also with a pair of bunny ears on, was a wide-grinning Dipper. He couldn't have been more than ten.

 _GRUNKLE STAN,_ read the letters above the picture. Against her better judgement, she pressed the green answer button and pushed the phone against her ear.

"Kid," barked the voice on the other end of the line. Stan's voice sounded exactly how she would have imagined it based on the picture. "You alive? You missed practice."

Pacifica stayed silent for a second.

"Your silence says that you're either thinking of an answer or someone else has the phone."

"Uh, this is Pizza Hut. How can we help you?" _Okay, that was probably the dumbest thing I've tried in a while._

There was dumbfounded silence on the other end of the line. "...you're the blonde chick from a while ago."

"How do you know?"

"You sound like a blonde." _Unbelievable._ "Anyway, is he alive?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Is he safe?"

Pacifica looked at him. The scar had shrunk even more, and he was now snoring contentedly. "Yes, sir."

"That's all I need to know," was the gruff reply.

"...okay, then, hanging up now," Pacifica said, trying her hardest to get out of the most awkward conversation of her life.

"Wait, Blondie!" Stan said before she could hang up. _Absolutely. Un. Be. Lievable._ "I got a favor to ask."

"Um, sure."

"Be nice to him, will you?" Stan asked. It was a pretty simple request, but Pacifica didn't really have an answer. "Our favorite idiot isn't much with people. You seem to be his friend. Do me a favor and stay that way, will you?"

"We're not friends!" Pacifica said, way too quickly.

Stan laughed. "Is that why you're answering his phone?"

He hung up before she could answer.

Pacifica leveled a glare at Dipper, then tossed the phone onto him. It bounced off the couch cushion and flopped onto Dipper's back. He didn't wake. "Your whole _freakin'_ family is just _full_ of _jerks!_ " She stalked off to her closet to get another sweater, still complaining the entire way. Gideon was singing too loudly in the shower to hear her griping.

She flopped onto the recliner, still grumbling to herself about how _We're not friends_ and _Senile old man_. Within thirty seconds, she was asleep.

xxx

Pacifica woke with a jerk when the front door slammed shut. "I'm awake!" she yelped. _Someone's in the house_ , she realized. _Gideon?_

There was a _thunk_ , and a female voiced cursed.

"Not Gideon," Pacifica said under her breath, and picked the lamp up off of the couchside table.

Dipper was awake too, mumbling, "Hrrrgh. Whrr 'm I?"

Gideon was already running down the hallway, dressed in a nice polo, frantically combing his hair up. "She's here! She's here!"

"Seriously," Dipper said, slurring his words less. "Where am I?"

"Oh, you're awake," Gideon said. "Hi. Go back to sleep."

"Sounds like a plan." Dipper let his head fall back on the couch. Pacifica set the lamp back on the table and smacked her hand on his forehead. "What. Are. You. Doing?"

"Making sure you don't have a fever," Pacifica told him. "Now relax."

"You're not my mother."

Pacifica took her hand off. "Fine. Die. See if I care."

" _Thank_ you. I'm dying on my own terms."

"Oh." Pacifica turned around, and there, in all of her blue-suited glory, was Mabel Pines. "My. God."

She walked up to Pacifica, and she was too stunned to react. Mabel towered over Pacifica, which was not unimpressive - Paz stood at a solid five-eight.

Her face was unreadable. Was she upset over the fact that Pacifica had basically kidnapped her brother and was letting him bleed out on her couch?

Suddenly, Mabel's face broke out into a grin that brightened the Western coastline up. "I _love_ your sweater!" she squealed. "What material is it?"

Paz decided to roll with it. "Gator skin," Pacifica answered proudly, grinning right back.

On the couch, Dipper rolled off in surprise. "Why do you have a gator-skin sweater?!"

"Do you not have one?" Mabel called over at him. She threw a purple shirt at him, then turned back to Pacifica. "Thank you so much for taking care of his puny ass. I would have gotten him sooner, but-"

Pacifica quickly waved her off. "It's perfectly fine! I kinda owe him for last time, with the-"

"With the Corgi-thing?"

"Yeah, that and he kinda saved me at the bank."

"Please. I'm sure you saved him."

"Well, just a little bit."

Dipper sputtered indignantly. "A little bit?!"

Both of the girls pointedly ignored him. "So you and Gideon, huh?" Pacifica asked excitedly. "What are you two's plans for the night?"

"Oh, just some food. I'll have him home by-"

"No no no, keep him for as long as you want!"

Gideon stood next to Dipper as the two of them watched the girls chatter on and exchange phone numbers. "That," he said, "is unnerving."

The only thing Dipper could say was, "Yep."

Finally, Mabel said, "Well, this has been fun! I'll see you around more, I hope!"

"Oh, yeah, definitely!" Pacifica watched as Gideon offered an arm to Mabel, who, despite towering over him, took it gracefully, and the two walked off into the night.

Before they got too far, Dipper yelled from the front door, "Hey, Gleeful!" Gideon turned around. "Whatever you do to her, I'll do to you."

Gideon stammered, "Uh, do you want my other arm? Because-"

"Keep walking, Gideon!" Pacifica called as she dragged Dipper back inside the Shack. She slammed the door shut. "Will you leave him alone?"

"He is going out with my _sister!_ I actually have an excuse to be an asshole to him!"

"That… is actually a slightly-valid excuse, I guess." Pacifica took a deep breath. "Now, do you need a ride back to your house?"

"No, but you and me are gonna need a ride to the diner," Dipper stated flatly. Pacifica raised an eyebrow. "It's a Pines family tradition that whenever someone saves our lives, we get them food." Dipper marched out the door. "Where's your stupid golf cart?"

Ignoring the insult to her beloved cart, Pacifica jogged after him. "So you admit that I saved your life."

Dipper must have realized that he walked right into that one. "A little bit. I had it under control."

"Is that why you had a fish tank fall on your head?"

"I had it… 80% under control."

"Oh, eighty percent. I guess I should have just left you there."

Dipper hopped into the passenger seat of the cart. Pacifica started it up, and off they drove, still arguing.

Behind them, a nasal voice sighed. "If they don't stop arguing with each other, this is gonna be a long couple of months." A man with an eyepatch shimmered into existence. Waddles, who had been meandering the backyard while he waited for Dipper to leave, saw him, gave a fearsome piggy roar, and charged. Bill yelped, and with another shimmer, he was gone again.

 **I'm back. It's been about six months. I have no excuses. This isn't even a good chapter or anything, I don't know why it took so long to write. Next chapter will hopefully be out quicker. No promises. Feel free to yell at me in the comments. Enjoy.**


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